Practice to Deceive
by keysandhearts
Summary: Cloud is a thief working undercover as an ordinary trooper to bring down Shinra. Two years ago Shinra destroyed his hometown, killing its residents and burning the town to the ground. Now Cloud wants to find out why, but first he must face his enemy...
1. Prologue

**Plot Summary: Cloud Strife was a thief working undercover as a lowly trooper to bring down Shinra. Only 16, his home town of Nibelheim was destroyed by Shinra, burning the town to the ground, killing its residents, and blowing up the Mako reactor. The only question was, why? And what other secrets was Shinra hiding? All Cloud can remember of that night is Sephiroth's face amid the burning flames…**

**Disclaimer: This is going to be the first and last time we do this disclaimer. I'm sure it's pretty obvious that we don't own Final Fantasy VII or any of its characters; Square Enix apparently does (our corporate takeover plans are still in the works).**

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_"Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive."_

_ Sir Walter Scott_

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_Always be alert. Never drop your guard. _Those were the words that the Shinra Thief, as he had come to be called, lived by, and it was the lesson that he had been taught to hold above all others. Vincent had been a harsh if fair instructor and the thief, at sixteen, had been taught in two years more than most 1st class SOLDIERs learned in a lifetime. Or Turks, the thief thought wryly. He stopped above the ledge of a window. By his calculations he was already on the 68th floor and although this wasn't the first time he had scaled such a large building, it was still a struggle not to look down. It was his bad luck that he often suffered vertigo and the only way to cope with being at such heights was to convince himself that he was still _very _close to the ground. The thief gritted his teeth and moved his hands so that they gripped the stone tightly even as he brought one leg up and extended his other arm to reach toward the next ledge.

This was not his first foray into larceny nor would it be his last. He, a small-town boy from backwoods nowhere, had become not just proficient at the art of thievery but had become extremely good at it. Between the Turk training he had received from Vincent, the martial arts lessons he had received from Zangan, and some ninja stealth techniques he had picked up from a Wutaian ninja arts master named Kukashi, he was practically unstoppable. In the last few months he had become a noticeable thorn in Shinra's side as he proceeded to strip the organization of materia, weapons, gil, and information.

Straining his ears to detect any sound above the cool night breeze, he continued his ascent, praying that his accomplices had finished the task of disabling the guards above. He hadn't heard the alarm being raised or received the shrill owl cry that was their usual "goat-fuck" signal. Four minutes later he arrived at the 69th floor. His breath wheezed in and out of his chest and a light sheen of sweat covered every inch of his body and stung his eyes. He spent another couple of minutes composing himself before reaching into the pack at his waist, bringing out a thick soft cloth which he wrapped around his hand and wrist, then snapping back his fist and hitting the window which smashed inward, glass tinkling off the window pane and onto the thick carpet. The thief shook his head at Shinra's stupidity. There was no alarm for the windows higher than the 45th floor and he thought it utter arrogance that the Company trusted Shinra Headquarters' security to a few inept guards. Okay, more than a few, and the alarm system for the upper and lower floors were first-rate, but that wouldn't stop a determined thief and it certainly hadn't stopped him from scaling the building. True, he hadn't exactly scaled all 70 floors, more like two, but still…

Using the cloth to remove any remaining glass surrounding the pane, he then swung both legs forward over the ledge and dropped lightly and soundlessly to the floor. He held still and silent for a full minute before proceeding through the dark interior of the outer office. His ultimate goal was the President's office situated a floor above him on the right corner of the building. Most of the upper echelons of Shinra's officers and military personnel were at a charity function, leaving the top three floors of the building empty of people. And if they weren't…the thief shook his head. _Better not to borrow trouble_. _Better to steal it, _he thought with a slight smirk.

If all had gone correctly, the guards that should be patrolling the floor would be occupied for at least another twenty minutes, giving him just enough time to raid the President's office and get back out again undetected. The cameras on the top two floors had already been disabled and he proceeded unhindered through the hallway to the elevator. He entered the wide glass chamber and pulled out the keycard that one of his accomplices had managed to obtain from a senior Shinra official, biting his lip at the thought of what she must have done to get it before shoving it into the lock core and pushing the button. The elevator rose slowly and from his vantage point he could see the green glow of the city below, lights twinkling faintly from the surrounding buildings and Shinra searchlights moving in a constant sweep over the exterior of the building.

For what seemed like endless minutes the elevator rose and the thief checked his watch to monitor the time. _Seventeen minutes left. _That meant twelve minutes to make it to the office and raid what he could, another five minutes to make his way out of the building. The elevator dinged as it reached the 70th floor and the thief gasped lightly at the noise. He swallowed and willed his body to relax. He wouldn't do anybody any good being this jumpy.

He stepped lightly out into the hall, more aware now of the ticking away of the time, his mental clock counting away the seconds as he made his way toward the corner office. When he finally reached it he was more than surprised to find the door open. _Why would President Shinra leave the door to his office open?_ The thief's footsteps slowed as he approached the door and cautiously pushed it open farther. The interior was dark and empty but for the huge desk and computer at its center, a mini bar on the right adjacent to the door, and a large black leather sofa up against the left wall.

He made his way silently to the desk and crouched low as he flipped on the computer, gritting his teeth at the time it took to boot up and rather than sit in quiet frustration he opted to raid the desk drawers. He knew he wasn't likely to find much in unlocked desk drawers but figured 'what the hell' and began to rummage thoroughly but neatly through them. As he had anticipated he found nothing of interest but for some _Busty Beauties_ magazines in the bottom drawer and three left-over chocolate wrappers. Once the computer booted completely the thief pulled out a blank disc from the pack around his waist and inserted it into the disk drive. Rather than having to hack his way into the computer the thief simply typed in the known password, smirking in triumph when the computer dinged its approval and President Shinra's files icon was displayed.

The password had been _Layla,_ and it had been Jessie, one of his accomplices and friends who had discovered it. Jessie's mother was a well-known prostitute who had somehow managed to draw the eye of the President at one of his "private" parties. She had been his on-again, off-again mistress for well over a decade and Jessie had grown up under the "patronage" of President Shinra. With each passing year she had grown to hate him more as she was called by the neighborhood residents "the President Slut's Brat". Her loathing came to an all-time high the day she overheard the President bragging over the phone that no one would ever guess that his computer password was the name of a two-bit whore. Jessie had decided how best to use the information, had found the thief, and the rest had been history.

He clicked onto each file, not sparing a glance for their contents as he copied each one quickly to the blank disc, knowing that he would have time to look over the information later. Suddenly a shadowy movement near the door caught his eye and he hastily ejected the disc, stuffing it quickly into his waist pouch. The thief's eyes did not immediately focus on anything and after a minute of silence and continued peace he decided that he had had enough and rose to make his way to the door.

"Going somewhere?" a deep voice said from the direction of the door and the thief's eyes widened in shock and dismay as a shadow emerged. Every fiber in the thief's body coiled in preparation to take flight as the tall figure stepped closer and his features became discernible.

_General Sephiroth._

There was no mistaking, even in the darkness, the long length of silver hair that fell past his waist, the poison-green eyes that gleamed from a perfectly sculpted face, and the creak of black leather offset by silver metal epaulettes on each shoulder. Sephiroth approached him with glowing eyes bright against the darkness and a smooth grace that so reminded the thief of a great cat stalking its prey that for an unaccountable moment he froze stiffly, still in the half-crouch he had assumed upon the General's first words to him.

Sephiroth had positioned himself in front of the door. The thief was fast but no one was that fast. All of Midgar, hell, the world, knew that General Sephiroth was a formidable opponent. Still, there might be no other way but to—

"I wouldn't if I were you." The words were spoken softly and incongruously tinged with pity. That couldn't be right. Shinra's General, the Demon of Wutai, didn't feel pity for anyone or anything. No, he could expect nothing of the kind from this silver monstrosity. It was only a spot of wishful thinking influenced by another time, another place, when the man before him had seemed a hero, and such thinking was best eradicated now.

To the thief's knowledge no other exit existed and for a moment panic welled in his chest and his heartbeat fluttered erratically at the knowledge that he might very well be trapped and all of his plans could go down in flames. But memories of Vincent's training came to the forefront, words of advice to remain calm under the greatest times of stress and to keep plans flexible in case an emergency should arise. _Lie, Distract, Evade, Regroup._

"Wha' would you 'ave me do? Stand 'ere quietlike while you tie the noose 'round me neck? Not fuckin' likely." Only a faint tremble marked the uncertainty in the thief's cocky tone.

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you decided to embark upon this career. Give up quietly and I promise you will meet no immediate harm." Again the words were spoken softly and the thief had to strain to hear the words even in the still quiet of the room. He knew that Sephiroth was only trying to lull him into a false sense of security, all the better to pounce on his unsuspecting prey later.

"That's the rub, ain't it? _Immediate_ 'arm withstandin'." The thief's eyes darted about the room, searching for any other viable means of escape. As if reading his mind, Sephiroth spoke again.

"There's nowhere to run, boy. Guards are in the outer hall, and I," he nodded his head once and a brief smile flitted to his thin sensual lips—"well, I am here."

"So I see," the thief murmured. He cocked his head, listening intently for the sound of encroaching guards but could detect no sound other than his own faint breathing and strong heartbeat. "Right-o, Gen'ral," the thief said, cockiness once again lacing his words, "You got me fair 'n square. But why, I'm wonderin', ain't your guards here to put me under arrest. Why're you 'ere if you're guards could handle me? Surely such a regiment could handle one lil' old unarmed thief?"

"Very good, very astute," Sephiroth said, his tone shaded with condescending approbation. "But the games are over. I want to see your hands above your head. Anyone as good with a pick-lock as you is bound to be just as good with a knife."

"Yer not scared of lil' old me are you, Gen'ral," the thief said derisively.

"Hardly." Sephiroth's eyes gleamed faintly with disdain before he spoke again. "But I believe in caution as well as expedience. Now, no more talk. Hands above your head. Slowly."

The thief raised his hands mockingly slow above his head and the General approached him, silently taking two more steps toward him so that he now had to look up to meet Sephiroth's eyes. This close the thief could make out the porcelain perfection of the General's face, the arrogantly arched brows over glittering watchful green eyes, and the sensuous bow of his lower lip.

"Jes' wha' sorta deal is it you lookin' to make? A bit o' the take? Somethin' to turn a blind eye?"

Sephiroth stopped and surveyed the thief for a moment before replying. "No, I want something that you've already taken."

"Oh?" _What the fuck could that be?_ In all the time the thief had raided Shinra's stores he had never come across anything that could be of the slightest interest to the General. _What could possibly be so important that Shinra's great General had been sent to retrieve it? _His eyes once again darted urgently to the door and then in hasty speculation to the window. He took a step back toward the desk. _Where there's a will, there's a way. _

"I told you to stop moving." Sephiroth's voice had taken on the subtle hint of danger, like the barest hint of a blade's edge.

The thief shuddered at the sound, his body reacting to the deadly warning in the General's voice with a flickering of pleasure. Lately, more often than not, audacity had proven too tempting to resist, the adrenaline such escapades entailed demanding more and more risk, and the urge to give in uncontainable.

Sephiroth had once again begun his approach toward the thief and in desperation the thief pressed himself against the General in a move to distract as well as to disarm his opponent. Sephiroth stood stunned for a moment as the thief's hands moved toward the Generals waist.

"Ain't you wantin' to search me afore you take me to the pen?" The thief's words came out in a breathy rush as he concentrated on subtly sliding one hand toward his waist pack, his body still pressed flush against Sephiroth's tensile form.

The General stood frozen for another instant before he reached out to grab the hand that had been placed at his waist. The thief jerked back instinctively, fighting the implacable hold that Sephiroth had on him before he stopped moving entirely, aware of the merciless grip that the larger man had that would brook no struggle.

"I just wanted to reassure you that I ain't got no shiv on me person." The thief shrugged lightly before he began once again to make slight movements with his right arm to reach further into his pack, clutching a small, marble, sized sphere that he knew to be materia. He grasped it tightly in his hand, his left still held tightly in Sephiroth's grasp.

"Shiv?" Sephiroth asked quizzically, tightening his hold on the wrist he held. The thief could tell that the General was attempting to discern his features under the mask he wore which left only his mouth and chin visible, his eyes nothing but a shadowy glitter surrounded by dark cloth.

"You know, me sticker." When Sephiroth still showed no sign of understanding, the thief let out an exasperated breath. "Me knife. You can check to see I ain't got no knife. I always was a gen'lman," he said with a slight quirk to his lips.

Sephiroth removed his hand from the thief's wrist which had been the thief's ultimate goal in offering the search. He brought his arm up in a subtle movement, distracting the General with his gaze while he slotted the materia to the titan bangle he wore around his right wrist.

"Go ahead. Search me." The thief's voice was once again brash and Sephiroth's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I think I will," the General replied and slowly crouched down before the thief. He moved down toward the thief's ankles, feeling around his boots then sliding up his calves to the back of his knees. The thief couldn't repress a gasping breath at the sensation and struggled to remain still under the searching hands. They slid further up his thighs, grazed lightly but firmly around his groin, and his heart sped up slightly and he inhaled sharply, holding his breath until they made their way toward his waist and hips. Sephiroth's eyes once again narrowed as they reached the pack and he opened his mouth to speak. Before he could get the words out the thief brought his right arm up and the Ice 3 spell he had slotted rushed from the materia and into the General's startled face.

He knew that he only had seconds to make his escape and that his only advantage lay in the fact that he had yet to see the famed Masamune sword, nor had he seen it anywhere on Sephiroth's person. An instant later a blast of flame shot from where Sephiroth's body had frozen for an instant still in the half crouch he had assumed when he had been searching the thief. The blast blew out the large window framing the President's office and knocked the thief flat on his back. Sephiroth rose ominously from the floor, his cat-like green eyes glinting with something—was that amusement? It couldn't be. Nothing about this situation was funny.

The thief scrambled to his feet, darting one last desperate look toward the door before catching a final glimpse of Sephiroth's shocked face as he ran toward the window, not even hesitating as he jumped from the room, his body falling for a countless second as he struggled to grasp the ledge beneath.

He managed to grab it in one hand, his body positioned incorrectly to achieve a double-handed grip. His right hand began to slip from the stone ledge and the thief's legs dangled helplessly as he fought to maintain his hold. Suddenly he felt someone grasp his straining hand and he looked up to see Sephiroth laying flat against the floor, his right arm bracing himself against the window as he reached down with his left.

"Hang on," he said, his voice cool and composed, a stark contrast to the thief's madly beating heart and the chaos of smoky residue and shattered glass. "Reach for me and try to brace your legs against the side. Don't worry. I won't let go."

"That's what I'm afraid of," the thief murmured and Sephiroth's eyes gleamed once again with what the thief could swear was suppressed humor.

"Come on. Reach."

Without warning the sound of chopper blades rose above the stillness of the night and light bloomed from overhead in a beam that landed upon the thief. He sighed in relief as he saw his rescue in the form of a descending air ship. The guards above must have been disabled successfully because the thief could hear no sound of rifle fire or alarm.

"Time to go, Gen'ral. I appreciate the help." Sephiroth glared, bewildered as a long rope dropped from the sky right into the grasp of the thief's once dangling hand. He wound both legs about it and made a movement to pull away from him but Sephiroth refused to let go. Tugging sharply, the thief managed to rip his hand away, braced precariously against the window as Sephiroth was, his escape was easy enough and he couldn't help offering a small wave back at the General. Sephiroth stood up as the air ship rose, the thief's form disappearing into the the night.

"Till next time, little one." He smiled darkly and in his eyes was the cold, fierce light of determination.

The thief didn't see his smile, nor did he hear the General's words but he had a feeling that he had stirred some kind of hornet's nest by taunting the silver-haired leader of the Shinra military the way that he had. Still, he had gotten what he'd come for and as he thought this he pulled the little disc out of his waist pouch, smirking in triumph as it glittered faintly in the darkness.

"What the fuck happened! How the hell did Sephiroth know you were there?" Cid Highwind yelled from the pilot's seat, a cigar hanging from the right side of his mouth.

The thief pulled the black mask from his head and a wealth of golden-yellow spikes sprang up, bright blue eyes glinted darkly from the shadows.

"I don't know, Cid. But I'm going to find out. First, though, I'd like you to check out what's on this disc." He tossed the disc to Cid, and the pilot without turning, managed to catch it with the hand not busy steering.

"Nice work, kid."

"Thanks. But we'd better keep the disc between us. At least until we can figure out what went wrong."

"Fine by me. Looks like somebody might've said something. It's the only thing I can think of for Sephiroth's timely appearance," Cid muttered as he chewed on the tip of his cigar.

"Yes," he responded darkly, trying to think of who amongst his friends and associates could possibly be responsible for the General's knowledge. Not only had Sephiroth known he was there, he had been waiting for him, and that above anything told him that they had a traitor in their midst. He brushed a hand through his untamable gold spikes, dissatisfied with the idea, not wanting to suspect any member of his crew, but unable to deny the culpability of at least one. And what had Sephiroth wanted from him? What could he possibly have that Shinra's pet General was sent after him? He sighed heavily. He didn't have time for this. Tomorrow he would have to go back undercover, to being plain Cloud Strife, grunt trooper and lowly MP, but for now, they had work to do.

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Please make sure to review :D


	2. Golden Silence

A/N: Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, especially since this is our first Final Fantasy VII fic and we were definitely nervous about it. You guys make us feel so welcome. Thank you to **Saria19, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, FantasyFlameQueen, lifes' angle, lady-yuna7, Clockwork Phoenix, Dragi, Niebo, KitsuneToy, Wintersheart1766, KHfujoshigirl98, **and** rien.**

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_"There is a wide difference between speaking to deceive, and being silent to be impenetrable." - -- _**Voltaire**

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Cloud Strife sat alone in a corner of the mess hall contemplating the inedible mass of food that lay before him. He thought it was supposed to be some sort of meatloaf but by the looks of it, Gaia knew what it was actually made of. The side dishes looked no more appealing than the main course, being a disturbing heap of soggy peas and a mushy variety of otherwise unknown vegetables. He picked up his fork and dug in, knowing that beggars couldn't be choosers and he couldn't afford to miss out on the necessary calories, not with his already small stature and build. If anything, he needed to put on more weight and so he ignored the taste and concentrated on chewing his food thoroughly before swallowing, chasing each bite with a sip of water.

"Shit, I don't know how you regulars eat this stuff." The statement was accompanied by the slam of a tray as Zack Fair, SOLDIER 1st class, pulled out a chair across from him.

Cloud ducked his head to hide a small smile, an involuntary reaction to Zack's presence that despite himself, he was never able to repress. Zack was dressed in the familiar uniform of a 1st class SOLDIER and despite their freedom to wear whatever they wanted Zack always chose to wear the uniform. Cloud would've felt admiration for this if he hadn't known that Zack chose to dress that way because he was too lazy to choose anything else. Zack's hair was just as spiky as his own with the only real differences being the color and style. Zack's long black stalks of hair were slicked back from his face except for one strand that hung forward. His violet eyes sparkled with good humor as he settled into his chair and grimaced down into his food.

"Then why are you here? I hear that SOLDIER food is actually safe to eat," Cloud mumbled as he shoved another helping of mystery meat into his mouth.

"It's more than that, it's downright delicious. You could eat that way too if you became a SOLDIER." Zack accompanied the statement by giving Cloud a look that was a mixture of puppy-dog pleading and naked demand. It was all Cloud could do not to groan in frustration as the inevitable topic of Cloud's possible enrollment into the SOLDIER program was once again brought up.

When Cloud had first decided to infiltrate Shinra by signing up for a hitch as an MP, he had never considered the idea that he would meet someone like Zack, much less become friends with him. In fact, nothing about Zack could be construed the least bit predictable, which wasn't a good thing, especially given his already precarious position. Worst of all was Zack's close relationship with Sephiroth, and with every day spent in Zack's company he risked exposure, risked a potential confrontation with Shinra's General. While he was positive that Sephiroth had no idea of his identity as the Shinra Thief, he did not want to chance meeting him. He didn't want to have to conceal the overwhelming hatred he was afraid he would not be able to suppress in his presence. But the unfortunate truth was that no matter how he felt, no matter the risk, he couldn't discard Zack's friendship, and therein lay the crux of the problem.

Cloud had managed to go unnoticed by practically everyone in Shinra, even though his small stature and bright coloring caused no little amount of bullies to take pleasure in harassing him. Still, Zack had singled him out, had taken him under his wing and was determined to see him join the ranks of SOLDIER. Cloud couldn't understand it. His performance so far had been mediocre at best (a very deliberate choice on Cloud's part to remain safely anonymous), yet Zack was insistent that Cloud had the potential to become more.

Sometimes Cloud believed Zack to be the open book he portrayed, a good SOLDIER, a warm caring friend and a brilliant light of optimism in the heavy darkness that was Shinra. But despite all of that, most of the time Zack didn't appear to be overly bright and was often prone to laziness, especially when it came to the administrative portion of his position. Cloud almost believed it, almost believed the façade that his friend put up, but then Zack would give Cloud that penetrating stare, the one that saw past the quiet and withdrawn exterior and into the deep recesses of Cloud's heart and mind, and Cloud knew there was a reason Zack had made 1st class beyond his ability to kill things. Cloud wasn't the only one who sometimes wore a mask.

"Come on Cloud, you know that you could make it into SOLDIER. It'd be a cake walk, especially with me around to help you train." Zack gestured to himself proudly and followed it up with a wink.

Cloud ruthlessly suppressed another smile and bowed his head, remaining silent as he finished off the rest of his meal. There was no way he could join SOLDIER, there were too many obstacles in his way. Drawing any more attention than he already had would be a mistake, and that was exactly what joining SOLDIER would garner him. His status as the Shinra Thief and membership in an anti-Shinra organization notwithstanding, there was no way he would allow himself to be drawn further into an association with the company that had been responsible for the decimation of his home town and all of its residents. The irony that joining Shinra's ranks of SOLDIERs had once been his lifelong dream and an offer from Zack, Sephiroth's second-in-command, would once have caused him to jump for joy but now only caused a sinking sensation to settle in his stomach, was not lost on him. Moreover, it would be next to impossible for Cloud to hide the skills he had acquired through his work as the Shinra Thief under the watchful eyes of Zack once he was in the SOLDIER candidate program. No, there was no way in Gaia he could join SOLDIER, even had he wanted to.

Zack stared back at him, used to Cloud's silences, his gaze telling Cloud that he could wait all day for him to respond if that was what it took. He sighed and bit his lip before he mustered up the familiar rebuttal.

"I don't have what it takes to be in SOLDIER." This response caused Zack to snort in disbelief even as he scooped up the last of his meal with a slight grimace of distaste.

"Really don't know how you stand this shit," he muttered, pushing the tray away and leaning back in his chair with a sigh. He perused Cloud for a moment before replying.

"You and I both know that's not true, Cloud. I've seen you on missions, and yeah, you're a bit green, but you've got courage and heart, and that's more than a lot of members of SOLDIER can say. Learning how to fight is the easy part, the rest of the necessary attributes to be in SOLDIER you already have."

Cloud was both flattered and disheartened by Zack's faith in him. The flattery was easy to understand. It wasn't every day that someone of Cloud's rank received such praise from a 1st class. But Zack's confidence in Cloud caused a churning to stir in his gut and the strong weighty presence of guilt to settle in his heart. Becoming friends with Zack had never been part of the plan and the fact that Cloud was forced to lie to Zack, if only by omission, was enough to cause him more than one sleepless night. Here he was, trying to bring down the company that Zack had devoted his life to, and Zack's expression of faith, in his mind, compounded Cloud's treachery. The saddest part of all was that there was nothing he could do about it. If not for Zack's position, if Zack hadn't been so closely allied with Sephiroth, maybe he could have chanced confiding in him, but as things stood, there was no possible way.

Cloud finally met Zack's eyes and smiled slightly, searching his mind for a possible response to deter Zack from continuing that line of conversation.

"So, do you have any upcoming missions?" he asked Zack, but he could tell by the other's reproachful gaze that he had not fooled him with the change of subject. Nevertheless, Zack smiled and answered him.

"Nah, I was planning on sticking around for a while. Sephiroth is kind of in a funk right now. He's become obsessed with catching that Shinra Thief and I have to be around to rein him in."

Cloud couldn't help the flush that stole to his cheeks which moments later drained from his face as he became utterly pale. He lowered his head to hide his reaction to the news, but his stomach was a tight knot, his heart hammering in his throat, and he swallowed hard.

"W-Why is he so insistent upon catching him? I thought that that was the Turks' job?" Cloud asked hesitantly, trying not to seem too interested in Zack's answer.

Zack snorted. "I asked him that myself. Trust me, Seph has had more than one conversation with Tseng over jurisdiction. But nothing stops Sephiroth when he's on one of his rampages."

Cloud felt sure that all the blood in his body had dissipated as he heard that piece of information, his face now completely lacking any color, and his hands were cold as he clenched them in his lap. He had known that Sephiroth would be determined to catch him, especially after offering him the taunting challenge he had at their last meeting, but the news that even after two months, Sephiroth was _obsessed_ with catching him, caused him to tremble slightly. He had faith in his own abilities, but if Cloud had been looking for a formidable opponent, he couldn't have chosen a better one than Sephiroth. He had been so stupid, taunting him like that, _challenging_ him to find Cloud if he could. But excitement and adrenaline had rushed through him, the thrill of the near-miss lending a feeling of invincibility.

Even as his mind filled with apprehension, his body trembled with the thrill of eagerness at the thought that Sephiroth was so determined to find him. Much like a fox anticipates outwitting the hound, Cloud could feel the familiar surge of adrenaline that usually only came when he was under the guise of the Shinra Thief. He had never had this feeling in his everyday life as Cloud Strife, but without provocation his two selves seemed to be melding, the degrees of separation between he and Sephiroth were beginning to whittle away into nothing, and he wondered how much longer he could stay away.

He hadn't gone out as the Shinra Thief in eight weeks, one day, two hours, fourteen minutes, and approximately 23 seconds. Every day seemed like a lifetime, the nights a torturous monotony of endless minutes as the darkness called for him to take to the rooftops of Midgar, to feel the familiar adrenaline pour into his veins as he escaped detection again and again.

But to wish for that was futile. Zack had just said it. Sephiroth was obsessed with finding him and for him to go out now as the Thief would be beyond brainless, it would be pure folly. Every facility in Shinra was being closely watched for any sign of the one that had managed to escape from their clutches. Cloud couldn't help smirking slightly at the drama of it all.

"So, how would you like to meet Sephiroth?"

Zack's question caused Cloud to blanch even as he couldn't help from blurting out a horrified response. "WHAT?!"

"Yeah, I mean, I already talk about you all the time. It can't be a surprise that I want two of my best friends to meet."

Cloud didn't even have time to feel flattered at Zack's description of him as his best friend because a mixture of repulsion and elation was sweeping through him at the idea of coming face to face with Sephiroth. He was inwardly disgusted with himself, not sure if his excitement was due to the risk of standing in front of Sephiroth; the Shinra Thief under the guise of a lowly trooper standing in front of the General determined to hunt him down; or the residual feelings of hero worship and admiration that he had grown up with. Either way, the logical part of him knew that he would be an idiot to allow himself within such close proximity of Sephiroth.

Cloud tried to veil his response, making sure not to meet his friend's eyes, his voice little more than a whisper as he replied, "Zack, I think that would be a bad idea."

"Oh, come on Cloud, you're not scared of him, are you? He's not that bad, especially once you get to know him. He actually has a pretty decent sense of humor." _I don't want to get to know him! _Cloud inwardly fumed even as his heartbeat quickened at the thought.

Suddenly Sephiroth's face rose before him, flames encompassing the familiar form that haunted Cloud's dreams and caused him to wake up in panting terror. He could still smell the smoke as Nibelheim burned around him, the endless quiet except for the snapping of burning wood as the dying cries of the villagers were silenced in an inferno of blood and fire. Sephiroth's image hovered over him, bending forward as he reached out to touch Cloud…

"Cloud, CLOUD!" Zack's voice snapped him back to reality and he became conscious of the fact that Zack had probably been calling his name for some time if the look on his face was anything to go by.

"Are you alright? You looked as if you were seeing a ghost or something." Zack's face was scrunched up with worry, his eyes concerned.

"Yeah, Zack, I'm fine. I think the food just didn't agree with me."

Zack didn't look like he believed him but he said, "That's not a surprise. This stuff is toxic."

Cloud smiled weakly and Zack stood up, pushing his chair back as he rose. Cloud picked up his tray and carried it to the garbage before turning back to Zack who was still giving him concerned glances.

"Really, I'm fine."

"Promise?"

Cloud's smile was stronger when he replied, "Yeah, I promise."

Zack smiled wider and clapped his hands together once before rubbing them together. "Good. Now about meeting Sephiroth, he's got some open time later today. I already checked his schedule, so just stop by my office and we'll head over there together."

Cloud's mouth hung open as he realized what Zack was saying.

"Zack, no, I don't think…"

"I won't take no for an answer, Spike, so you might as well shut it. You'll see, he's really cool. I'm sure you two will get along great." _And I'm sure we won't_, Cloud thought with panic.

"Zack…" But Zack was already walking away, tossing a wave over his shoulder.

Cloud sat down again, his mind dizzy with dread and excitement and apprehension. This couldn't be happening. How was he going to get out of this? The question revolved over and over in his mind as he made his way back to the barracks, most of the other troopers finished with lunch and preparing to go out on the firing range, where they would finish their afternoon exercises.

He thought about the last two months as he cleaned his weapon, pulling out his cleaning kit from beneath his bed. Cid was still working on decrypting the disk that Cloud had managed to get on his last foray out as the Shinra Thief, Tifa working to figure out their next target, and Vincent working to solidify their position with other anti-Shinra groups, namely Wutai. Neo-Avalanche was just getting started and it looked as if bringing down Shinra was going to be like a baby chocobo trying to bring down a Bahamut. They still had so much work to do and Cloud had not yet been able to discover the identity of the traitor. Only Tifa, Cid, Barret, and Vincent knew the truth about what had happened at Shinra Headquarters the night he had retrieved the disk. Vincent was trying to trace the leak, but until then, the five of them were being close-mouthed about possible new targets for larcenous exploits.

Furthermore, Cloud had still not managed to find out what Sephiroth had been looking for. Whatever it was, it had to be extremely important and Cloud needed to find it. Fast. Based upon the General's eagerness, it could possibly be the key to Shinra's downfall, or if not, at least something they might later be able to use as leverage. He had searched through their stores of stolen Shinra items but still he had seen nothing that could possibly interest someone as high ranking as the General. He wondered how much of why Sephiroth wanted to catch him was due to the unknown something that he allegedly had in his possession, and how much of it was due to that last taunting wave and smile he had shot back at Sephiroth as he flew away on the airship. He shook his head, deciding it didn't matter the reason, the point was that General Sephiroth was after him, and would probably continue his pursuit until Neo-Avalanche brought down Shinra and Sephiroth along with it.

Despite the difficulties, Cloud was in it for the long haul.

He contemplated the imminent meeting he had with the General thanks to Zack's interference and knew that whatever it took to make it happen, to bring down Shinra once and for all, he would do it, even if that meant standing in front of his worst enemy and, if not smiling, at least not shooting him where he stood. Not yet, at least.

* * *

President Shinra thumbed through the papers on his desk as Doctor Hojo, Heidegger, Scarlet, Reeve Tuesti, Tseng and General Sephiroth awaited his attention. He was being purposefully irksome, Tseng thought. But whom was he trying to provoke?

An indistinguishable and portly man with blond receding hair, the President of the Shinra Electric Power Company wore a white suit that contrasted with his ruddy complexion, his face stained with broken purple veins that lent evidence to the rumors that he drank heavily.

Lately President Rupert Shinra's political influence had faltered and despite being the known head of the company, the strength of his personality alone was no longer sufficient to carry out his directives. He had not been maintaining a close enough watch on the other officers of his departments and each one had managed to garner enough influence that if they ever decided to take a stand against the President, he would have no other recourse but to concede. Even his own son, Rufus, had found a way to acquire control as President Shinra's inattention had left a political power vacuum.

"Have you discovered the thief's identity?" President Shinra asked without looking up. Tseng sat for a moment, uncertain if it was he that was being asked the question or Sephiroth. The Turk glanced across the table at the General, but the other man stared back at him with cold, green eyes, and with not so much as a twitch to acknowledge that he had even heard the question. Before Tseng could reply, Sephiroth spoke.

"No, sir," Sephiroth said. "I have not."

"Hmmm. I wasn't aware that you had taken over this investigation, General."

"Tseng and I have come to an agreement. From here on out, SOLDIER will be responsible for tracking down the thief."

President Shinra pressed his liver-spotted fingertips to his lips. Wryly, Tseng noted how the President's purposefully intimidating desk in no way managed to diminish General Sephiroth. He sat at spine-punishing attention before it. Sephiroth had taken on the temporary role as the director of SOLDIER after Lazard had deserted the position and not many were happy with it, especially not Scarlet or Heidegger. They viewed him as little more than a science experiment gone wrong, a SOLDIER with delusions of grandeur. Sephiroth never gave any indication that he knew of their contempt, but Tseng was fully aware of the General's intelligence and was sure that he had noticed.

"And why the hell not?" Heidegger demanded, his bearded face and generously proportioned body quivering in indignation at Sephiroth's assertion of claimed responsibility for the thief. In Heidegger and Scarlet's mind every move was a power play, every garnering of favor a means to outmaneuver someone else out of control.

"Because I have been occupied with other matters." Tseng's eyes narrowed with skepticism. The General had just lied. As far as Tseng knew, Sephiroth had done little else but search for the Shinra Thief. It confirmed to Tseng that Sephiroth was trying to keep the thief to himself for a reason.

"SOLDIER has been in disarray since Lazard defected and I have been trying to oversee the recruitment of new SOLDIERs. The fact of the matter is, that Genesis and Hollander's escapades have left us in dire straits as pertains to military personnel and unless we rectify the situation immediately, there won't be enough SOLDIERs to keep up with Shinra's needs."

"Who cares," scoffed Scarlet, her breasts nearly pouring out of her low-cut dress as she bent over to adjust the strap of her shoes. Tseng was pretty sure the move was deliberate, intended to draw attention away from Sephiroth and toward her own—considerable assets. "I don't know what the big deal is. The war with Wutai is over, Genesis and Hollander are dead, and that stupid anti-Shinra terrorist group is gone. Increasing the number of SOLDIERs at this point is hardly necessary." President Shinra's eyes were on Scarlet's cleavage and she smirked back at him as she sat back in her chair, straightening her posture and proudly thrusting her chest forward. Tseng and Reeve were the only two who noted the flash of contempt in Sephiroth's eyes before he replied.

"Expansion of SOLDIER ranks is exactly what we need. Shinra is increasing its mako production, which means new townships and the need for more troops." Sephiroth's face grew even colder as he looked over at Scarlet. "As head of Shinra's Weapons Development Department, you should be more concerned." An icy smirk played across his mouth, highlighting the naturally sensual curve. "After all, without the military, you'd be out of the job."

Scarlet's face flushed in anger, the skin over her chest becoming mottled with red splotches of equal parts mortification and fury. "Why you—"

"That's enough," President Shinra interrupted. "We're getting off topic. What have you learned about this—this Shinra Thief," the President's lip curled as he spat the name. Professor Hojo giggled quietly next to Tseng and it was all he could do not to shift away from the bespectacled man. There was something—not quite right about him. Aside from the constant smell of chemicals that followed him around like a heavy miasma, Hojo's eyes behind his coke-bottle glasses were as dead and lifeless as the failed creatures he spawned in his lab.

Tseng spoke up. "We had suspected that the Shinra Thief was not working alone, that in fact he might be working with a splinter group of Avalanche."

"That's bullshit. Avalanche was destroyed by the Turks and our military," Heidegger stated pompously.

Tseng kept his face blank as he replied, "That is, in essence, correct, if not wholly true. There was purported to be some disagreement as to the methods the eco-terrorist group should use to bring down Shinra. This splinter group purports to be more humanitarian than its former counterpart."

"Cockroaches," Heidegger muttered, "Can't get rid of 'em."

Reeve Tuesti, head of Shinra's Urban Development Department, spoke up for the first time. "I confess that I don't see why this thief is so significant. Other than his possible association with this new anti-Shinra group, what makes him so important?"

Scarlet sneered at Reeve as she responded, "Of course you don't see the point," disdain was evident in the tone of her voice as she continued. "This thief can't be allowed to persist in his seditious actions. It sends a message to the population that Shinra can be defied. He needs to be made an example of. Rebellion like this cannot be allowed."

Reeve didn't reply right away, merely folded his hands across his lap and bowed his head in thought. Finally he spoke again, his tone calm and even. "I'm not sure that would be the wisest course. With our continued expansion, making an example of someone as famous as the thief in so public a manner could cause dissatisfaction and hostility to fester, thus making a martyr out of him and supporting this new Avalanche's cause. The best thing to do would be to handle this quietly."

Heidegger scoffed. "Of course you think that. Anything so you don't have to get your hands dirty."

"I agree with Tuesti," Sephiroth said and all eyes turned toward him. "Drawing attention to the thief's actions could cause trouble for us later on. Our main responsibility should be to maintain the power structure of Shinra. The Shinra Thief will not escape. I can assure you all of that." The glint of steely determination in the General's eyes did not allow for argument and even Scarlet backed down at his assertion.

"I want this new terrorist group found," President Shinra declared looking over at Tseng as he spoke.

"We're already on it, sir." Tseng replied.

"Good. Now give me an update on the new mako reactor in Corel," he said, turning back to Reeve.

The rest of the meeting was standard fare, with each department giving the latest updates and offering advice for troubleshooting. Sephiroth sat rigid through it all, his face never changing expression, and Tseng was once again struck by the idea that the General wasn't human. No one could maintain that upright and stoic demeanor for long without eventually having to move.

Tseng snapped out of his reverie as the meeting came to an end and each person made their way out of the office toward the glass elevator that would lead them to their respective floors. Tseng saw Sephiroth maintaining his position by the door as he waited for him to approach.

"Sephiroth," he said with a nod.

"Tseng. Is everything prepared?" the General asked and Tseng nodded his head in response.

"The information we placed on that computer was false. The minute they decrypt the disk we'll know. We already have the trap in place."

"Excellent." Tseng was intrigued by the glint of satisfaction in the other's eyes as he spoke and he again wondered what importance the thief really had for the stoic General.

"Keep me updated," and with that Sephiroth stepped away and toward the elevator.

The General's behavior sparked in Tseng the determination to find out what was really going on. After all, it was the Turks' job to know everything. With that thought in mind, he made his way back to the President's office.

* * *

Sephiroth sat alone in his office, his thoughts centered on the impending trap that should be sprung any day now. If the Turks' information was correct, Neo-Avalanche was working with an expert hacker and it wouldn't take much longer for the disk to be decrypted.

He sat back in his chair and turned to face the window, staring out at the gray sky muddled with the smoky residue that the mako reactors' produced. He was distracted and for him that was unacceptable. Although his encounter with the thief had been a setup, a large part of him was bothered by letting him escape the way that he had. There was no doubt that he was clever, but even so, he would not be clever enough to evade him forever. His capture was inevitable. The only question was the manner in which his capture was carried out.

He stirred restlessly, glancing down distastefully at the paperwork in front of him. For two months he had been working at gaining information about the thief. His investigations along with Tseng's had led them both to the conclusion that the Shinra Thief was someone within Shinra itself. Moreover, it had to be someone in the regular army, either an army MP or perhaps even a cadet training for SOLDIER. Based upon what he knew of the thief's form and voice, he would venture a guess that he was very young. His build had been lithe yet still somehow unformed, his voice not yet that of someone far past the age of puberty. His body tightened in remembrance of that lissome form against his own, the way that the thief's body had tensed as he ran his hands over it.

For a moment remembered sensation overwhelmed him, flooding every nerve with a physical memory of him. During the two months of his search he'd developed a certain admiration for his thief, the respect of one professional for another. Few had the wherewithal to evade his pursuit.

He had come to look forward to the next move in the game they were playing. It was a challenge in a life that more and more offered little reward for the tedious act of breathing.

But now—

Now they were involved in another kind of game, a primal form of stimulation. He couldn't help but find amusement that it was a thief, a renegade, a rebel with a cockney accent that had managed to rouse his sexual appetite from so long a dormancy. He could still feel him beneath his palms: the flexible strong calves, the well-built thighs, the slender hips.

He'd gotten in beneath his guard. And in those few intense moments the thief had fused himself into his nightly dreams. Yes, he very much looked forward to renewing their acquaintance.

For too long he had gone without any sort of challenge and ennui had become his constant companion. The prospect of the puzzle that the Shinra Thief presented had stirred something in him that he hadn't felt for a very long time. Interest. Intrigue. Fascination. All of the things that he had missed for more years than he could remember. Reconciling his fascination with his position was becoming harder to do. He knew that once he had solved the mystery of the thief his interest would wane and boredom would once again set in but until then his thoughts remained upon an agile form clothed in black.

"Yo, Seph," a familiar voice said from the doorway. Sephiroth turned to face his second, trying not to sigh in resignation at Zack's continued lack of etiquette when it came to entering his office.

"Zack, what did I tell you about knocking."

"Um, that I should?" Zack said with an unrepentant grin. Sephiroth did sigh at that and leaned back in his chair.

"Was there something you needed?"

"Yeah, actually," he said, plopping down in the chair across from him and folding his hands behind his head. "You know that trooper I was telling you about, the one that I've become friends with?"

"I vaguely recall you telling me about him, yes," Sephiroth said, turning his attention once more to the paperwork in front of him. It was no surprise to Sephiroth that Zack had befriended one of the regulars; Zack never did have much awareness of rank distinction, despite his former determination to achieve the rank of 1st.

"Well, see, here's the thing," Zack said, leaning back farther until the front legs of the chair lifted off the ground. "Spikey, I mean Cloud, is a trooper, and he seems fine with that, but I really think he belongs in SOLDIER. And since we're desperate to find recruits anyway I was hoping to convince him to join."

Sephiroth looked up and tilted his head slightly in question. "He's reluctant to join?"

"Yes. I think he believes that he's not good enough."

"And what makes you think he is?" Sephiroth asked.

Zack pondered this for a moment before replying. "You know, I'm not sure exactly. It's not like he's Shiva's gift to SOLDIER or anything. But he's actually pretty competent when he's acting instinctively. I've seen him in action on a couple of missions and when he's not thinking about it, his instincts are first-rate. I think it's a matter of instilling confidence in him."

"So what do you want from me?" Sephiroth inquired, leaning back and giving Zack a quizzical look.

"Well, I was kind of hoping that if he met you he might be more inspired to try for it. I mean, I'm pretty sure you're his hero."

"Hmmm." Sephiroth's eyes were distant as he made the noise and Zack could tell that he was only continuing to listen out of politeness. Sephiroth was used to the hero worship of lower ranking soldiers and was therefore uninterested.

"He hasn't said it in so many words but every time your name is mentioned he gets this look on his face that makes me think you're the reason he joined the military in the first place."

"That's an awfully big leap in illogic, even for you," Sephiroth said wryly.

"Yeah, I'm good at that," Zack smirked and Sephiroth shook his head.

"So you want me to meet him. What exactly do you expect me to say?"

"You know, just be encouraging. Be yourself. Uh, wait a minute, strike that. Just, I don't know, talk to him like you talk to me. I'm sure he'll respond to that. He's actually pretty quiet, like you, but he's got this sensitivity that he tries to hide."

Sephiroth sighed and closed his eyes tightly, not sure that he was up to meeting Zack's newest friend but unwilling to disappoint him. He and Zack had been through a lot together in the past couple of years and it had drawn them closer together than he had thought possible. Sephiroth would never admit it to Zack but he truly did consider him to be a good friend.

"Alright. When did you want me to meet him?"

Zack smiled sheepishly. "Um, right now?"

"Right now?" Sephiroth scowled across the desk at Zack who gave an unrepentant shrug.

"He's waiting just outside the door."

Sephiroth shot Zack another look to let him know that he didn't appreciate being ambushed then called toward the door. "Come in."

It was several moments before the door opened and Sephiroth looked up into the clear wide blue eyes of Cloud Strife.

* * *

Please review!


	3. A Matter of Time

Thank you so much to all the reviewers, we can't express enough how much we appreciate your support.

Thank you to: Denzal, Fur0r P0eticus, BloomingDelirium, Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog, Atrophy, kittykitten02, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, Dragi, Scribhneior45, Haltia, Clockwork Phoenix, rien, ellie, Wintersheart1766, 4LLi3, cloudstrifejen, KHfujoshigirl98 (we love you), and FantasyFlameQueen.

* * *

Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly,  
'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;  
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,  
And I've a many curious things to shew when you are there."  
Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain,  
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."

"The Spider and the Fly" by Mary Howitt

* * *

If Zack was expecting Cloud to be excited about this meeting then he was doomed for disappointment. He walked in with all the enjoyment of a death-row inmate faced with the electric-chair. His head was bowed low as he stepped through the door and Zack couldn't make out his expression, but he suspected that he bore the indifferent mask he had worn the first day he had met him. It had taken Zack weeks before he was able to break through Cloud's walls; weeks before he could get any expression at all, and weeks _more_ before he had gotten even a hint of a smile.

Expressionless he may have been, but that didn't mean Zack couldn't tell how he was feeling. Everything Cloud felt could be seen in his eyes. Many said that the eyes were the window to the soul and this truth went double for Cloud.

"Come on in, Cloud. We were just talking about you." Zack moved in the chair so that he was half-turned to face the young trooper, enough so that he could still see Sephiroth out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes. Come in, Strife," Sephiroth said softly and Cloud's eyes went up to lock with the General's. He didn't move for a few seconds, staring at Sephiroth as a bird stares at a snake preparing to strike. Eventually the tension-filled moment passed as he stepped forward to stand at attention in front of the General's desk, hands held stiffly by his sides, back straight, and eyes forward.

Light filtered into the room through the large window behind Sephiroth and fell upon Cloud's features, highlighting the blond strands of hair which framed his face in disordered spikes and reflected against his blue eyes, making them glow in a manner that rivaled SOLDIERs who had undergone mako injections.

He could tell, even under his indifferent mask, that Cloud was extremely nervous. His features were drawn and strained, his face so pale that it was nearly colorless. _Gaia, I hope he doesn't faint. What a spectacle that would be._

Sephiroth, perhaps sensing Cloud's edgy tension, strove to put him at ease. "Relax, Strife. This isn't a formal meeting."

Cloud's fists didn't unclench. In fact, they seemed to tighten and his Adam's apple bobbed noticeably. What was wrong with him? The ticking of the clock over Sephiroth's office door became audible as silence once more fell over the room.

Cloud didn't know what to feel or think. The man who continually invaded his dreams and interposed himself into his daily thoughts was sitting in front of him, casual in a white work shirt, his moonlight hair falling straight and perfect around fine-boned, aristocratic features.

There was something more than the arrangement of his features that drew the eye. He had an indefinable quality of sophistication about him, a calmness of manner that, coupled with such predatory eyes, arrested the attention. One was left in no doubt that Sephiroth was the General when he was in the room. His very presence caused an electric shock to go through Cloud's system.

He still remembered, could feel Sephiroth's hands searching him, wandering over his calves, his thighs…Cloud bit the inside of his cheek, willing the little pain to make him come to his senses. It didn't work, just as it hadn't worked for the last two months.

He simply couldn't forget the man's gaze or touch. No matter the hatred he felt for Sephiroth or the icy rage that flowed through him when he remembered how his whole world was ripped apart, Cloud couldn't forget the night they had met. Danger had literally_ touched_ him. Even the memory of it was enough to. . .to excite him, he admitted to himself shamefully. He was afraid that Sephiroth had become a part of Cloud's fascination for his thief persona, another part of the thrill of his masked-role surging through him here in daylight.

"Cloud, I was just telling Sephiroth that I thought you would make a perfect candidate for the SOLDIER program," Zack said.

Cloud's thoughts ground to a halt as he looked up at Zack, blinking once in surprise. He should have expected this, should have expected that Zack would talk with Sephiroth about his possible enlistment into the cadet program.

He glanced away from his friend once more to meet Sephiroth's eyes and a little tremor ran beneath his skin, a tingle signifying ultimate peril, disturbingly familiar and even more disturbingly enjoyable. It was the same feeling he experienced when he donned a black mask and for a few brief hours became the Shinra Thief.

He stared into the General's eyes and realized that he didn't want to struggle against accepting this ruthless, euphoric sensation. It was only when he risked death or capture that he experienced the edgy stimulation that told him he was alive. After so many years of running from memories, he'd finally found a place where the past did not exist: Midgar's rooftops.

Somehow his thief personality had blended seamlessly with his position as an MP. He stood in front of the General, tremors of excitement and nervous tension forming beads of sweat that rolled down his spine and caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

Cloud's heartbeat stuttered in his chest and he bit the inside of his lip, willing himself to keep standing, to continue meeting the General's eyes. He swallowed down the saliva that flooded his mouth and couldn't help licking his lips in anxious habit, Sephiroth's eyes watching the motion of his tongue. Cloud's heart stuttered again.

"Well, Cloud? What are your thoughts on joining SOLDIER?" the General asked quietly, eyes still trained on Cloud's mouth before lifting them to meet his own. Something hot and mysterious appeared in the jade green eyes. He swallowed, willing himself to act.

He had to look down for a moment, Sephiroth's gaze was too heavy and it took a few moments before he finally gathered himself. Upon entering the General's office he had half-expected the General to seize his wrist and drag him bodily from the room. Either that or…his glance went to Masamune which lay against the far wall in easy reach of Sephiroth's grasp.

"I…Truthfully I've never aspired to be in SOLDIER, sir. I'm not sure I'm cut out for it." Cloud was happy that his voice came out steady and he struggled to relax, even as his heart raced and drops of sweat started to form at his temples in response to the constant pressure. At his utterance of those syllables Sephiroth's eyes narrowed on him.

A slick ball of dread lodged itself in his stomach, the idea that Sephiroth might recognize him from that long-ago day in Nibelheim a festering worry in his mind. Part of him knew that it was foolish to think that the great General would remember him, especially as he had been; a gangly young man of fourteen without strength, intelligence, or pedigree.

"You know that's not true, Cloud. I already told you, all you need is a bit of training," Zack protested, frowning slightly at him in puzzlement. Something was going on with Cloud. He could sense the tension even if he didn't understand where it was coming from.

"Is that true, Strife? Is that all it would take?" Sephiroth looked at Cloud questioningly, his concentration unwavering and he could feel the General's gaze like a tempered blade slicing through him.

"I…I don't know, sir."

"You don't know?" the General asked softly, one silver brow lifting in imperious question. "SOLDIER isn't for the faint of heart. A weak will is a detriment to the men who will be looking to you for leadership," he said, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands on top of his desk, although his eyes remained steady on Cloud.

His pride was hurt at the implied insult and his chin rose in defiance. "I didn't say that I _couldn't _be a SOLDIER, sir. I merely stressed that I don't think it's a life that would suit me."

Zack's mouth dropped open in naked disbelief. The last time he had talked with Cloud the young trooper had spoken as though he didn't think he had what it took to be in SOLDIER, and now he was saying that he could if he _wanted_ to. No less surprising was Cloud's boldness in asserting his belief to the General. What had happened to the quiet, self-effacing young boy he'd met who had been determined to disappear into the background?

"And why is that?" Sephiroth questioned, his eyes were at once curious and calculating.

Cloud froze. What was he doing? He was supposed to be maintaining his anonymity, supposed to endure this meeting, make as little impression as possible, and leave with Sephiroth none-the-wiser.

Sephiroth interfered with him at every turn. Not only was he responsible for his town's destruction, but he had put a stop to his only freedom. He hated having to give up his nightly excursions but he'd had no choice.

Silence reined for a few moments before Zack spoke up. "Cloud, I really think you should consider it. I would be more than happy to work with you once you become a cadet."

Cloud was conflicted. He didn't know whether he should be angry with Zack for being so insistent, or flattered that the Lieutenant General was so unrelenting on the idea of him joining SOLDIER. Nevertheless, the idea of working with Zack scared him. It wouldn't take his friend long to realize that Cloud had more skills than could naturally be attributed to his training as an MP.

The General and his lieutenant were still looking at him expectantly and Cloud realized that he had been silent for too long. "I…I'll think about it." Cloud said, inwardly wincing at the promise. This conversation had not happened the way he had anticipated.

"That's great, Cloud!" Zack said enthusiastically, but Sephiroth's expression was neutral except for something searing and elusive in his eyes that Cloud couldn't pinpoint.

He shivered under his regard, caught up in the magnetism of his gaze, his effortless charisma, but he kept his gaze and stance held steady. He had never been so glad for Vincent's training as he was now, standing in front of this destroyer, this man who seduced without word or gesture.

He was being drawn into SOLDIER however unwillingly it was, but to struggle against it at this point would be counterproductive. He had already attracted the General's notice through no real fault of his own, and to resist now would draw more attention than he was willing to risk.

Cloud's mind worked quickly and he realized that there might be a greater benefit to working from the inside than there was to working as an ordinary trooper. Taking down Shinra from within the company might be easier than his previous plan, although he had no intention of ceasing his larcenous activities, he thought, staring at Sephiroth.

"I'll bet you pass the entrance exam with flying colors," Zack said proudly and Cloud couldn't stop a grimace.

"I haven't agreed yet," Cloud said weakly, but Zack grinned at him as if he knew it was only a matter of time.

As he looked into Sephiroth's narrowed eyes, Cloud thought that perhaps it was.

* * *

Professor Hojo strode distractedly down the hall toward Sephiroth's office.

Something needed to be done. His General, his creation, had not succeeded at the task he had been given, and lately Hojo had sensed a discordant note in Sephiroth's manner, a hint of defiance and stubbornness that did not suit his purpose. He had already sent a request, no, a demand, that the General come to his lab to discuss their mutual problem, but he had been ignored.

It was outrageous. His creation had no right to disregard him. Hojo was his maker, his creator, and as such he deserved respect, not to be treated as some underling unworthy of attention.

Now _he _had to search the General out, like some little secretary begging for a moment of his time. That was unacceptable and he _would_ make his displeasure known.

His head was bent low, long strands of greasy hair straggling around narrow features and he pushed thick glasses up the bridge of his nose. He quickened his strides as he thought of the time he was wasting when he could still be down in his laboratory.

The halls of Shinra's 67th floor were empty but for the movement of the cleaning crew emptying garbage cans and the distant sound of a vacuum cleaner in a nearby office. It was late, but that was of no consequence. Both he and Sephiroth were workaholics.

But perhaps that wasn't the right term. "Workaholic" was a word that implied an unhealthy obsession, but that was not so, at least, not in his case. Dedication to work was to be commended and it seemed he had passed that trait on to his creation. At least the General had learned something, if not respect for his creator.

He reached the General's door and, with no fanfare or knocking, opened it. Sephiroth was standing in front of the window staring out at the rooftops of Midgar but turned when Hojo entered the room. His expression did not change and his eyes were cold and hard when they looked at him. He moved toward his desk although he did not sit but simply stood behind it, arms clasped behind his back.

"To what do I owe this honor?" he asked with barely veiled sarcasm, his gaze still stony.

"Don't pretend ignorance with me. I sent you a directive to join me in the lab earlier and you disregarded it."

"I am the Director of SOLDIER. I have no obligation to the Director of the Science Department to obey any directive that is sent to me," the General said coldly, icicles dripping from every disdainful word.

Hojo held onto his temper by a thread. He wanted to tell Sephiroth just how much he was obliged to him. He had, after all, given him life and made him into what he was today: the perfect specimen. But it was too soon for that. Sephiroth's destiny would be revealed to him in time.

Sephiroth went on, "The next time you might try phrasing your directive as a request and I might consider it, although I will not promise." He smiled slightly at this but there was no warmth to it and his eyes were flinty with unspoken malice.

"Enough of this useless banter, you know why I'm here." Hojo said and his voice was steady despite his frustration.

"Do I?" the General asked.

"Yes. I am most displeased at your failure to capture the thief. It has been two months and I have yet to see any sign that you are any closer than when you started," Hojo said, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "In fact, this is most unlike you, Sephiroth."

"Is it really?" Sephiroth said this with exceptional address. He had once made it known to Hojo that he believed protocol to be the mark of civilized world. Ideologies waxed and waned, religions rose and fell, and political parties advanced and retreated from power. Only a strict code of behavior remained one of the few things valued by men.

Sephiroth had gone so far as to assert that the reason so few of the men he commanded died was because it was the least inefficient way to arrange things, the least repugnant to the sensibilities, the best _conduct._ A man like that was fearsome.

Perfect manners coupled with absolute remorselessness. It was a disturbing combination. Sephiroth might stand with the military precision that attested to the achievement of a stern authoritarian, but his face reflected only polite interest in Hojo's aggressive queries.

"It is unlike you to be so incompetent." Hojo was hoping to get a reaction but again there was none.

For a quarter of a century he had observed Sephiroth, watched him develop from lean youth to sinewy-muscled manhood and observed his passion become iron control. Hojo, who had a long history of manipulating others, had never known so enigmatic a man. Sephiroth had the power and will to overtake any foe, including the one holding his leash. It troubled him that he did not understand why Sephiroth—the most effective SOLDIER he had ever created—allowed himself to be used.

What would happen when the General's interest did not coincide with Shinra's? Or worse, his own?

"How do you propose to catch a thief if you cannot bring him in even after he steps into your own trap?" Hojo snapped, disliking his uncharacteristic unease.

"As you say, I failed to apprehend the thief." Hojo observed the knuckles of Sephiroth's sword hand gleamed like marble beneath the skin. Interesting. His unsuccessful attempt to capture the thief bothered him. It was more than interesting, in fact. It was useful.

An emotion—any emotion—might be used as a whip to drive him. There were few enough weapons one could use to compel someone like Sephiroth.

"We can't afford failure, especially not at this juncture," Hojo responded coldly. "Most disappointing, Sephiroth. You had the thief right in the room with you, is this not true? What happened? Did he overwhelm you?"

"Yes." The admission slipped out in a hushed, intense voice.

Hojo's attention sharpened. "Are you going feeble then? Perhaps your mako levels have waned to the point where you cannot function properly." Sephiroth's face was immobile but his tension was clear. He hated the lab and Hojo knew it. "You can place yourself back under my care, or perhaps I can suggest to the President that you need more help to succeed at catching the thief. Someone who might act as your crutch, possibly."

The direct hit to Sephiroth's pride produced no further reaction than a slight tensing of his jaw and the narrowing of his eyes.

"I suggest not." Though the words were spoken quietly and with a slight apologetic curve to his lips, the warning behind them was clear.

_Pride?_ But that wasn't correct. No, this was a more primitive emotion. Hojo leaned forward, lowering his head so he could peer at Sephiroth over the bridge of his thick glasses. He considered himself a master of discerning feeling, a skill he attributed to having no sentiment clouding his own judgment.

Sephiroth sounded _possessive_. Yes, this was indeed interesting.

"Shinra's future rests in the hands of a thief," Hojo continued, still peering at Sephiroth with an inquisitive gaze. "The President has threatened to pull my funding if I can't be of use, and I will be made worthless unless we can reacquire what the thief has taken."

"I don't see how this is my problem." Sephiroth finally seated himself behind the desk and the chair squeaked slightly as he leaned back, staring at him with disinterest.

Hojo ground his teeth before replying. "Whether you like it or not, SOLDIER's fate is tied to mine. Don't pretend like you don't know that."

"No man alone is essential to Shinra. I think the deaths of Gast and Angeal as well as the disappearances of Genesis and Lazard demonstrated that."

Hojo's laughter at Sephiroth's assertion was high-pitched and unnerving enough to be equated with nails scraping a chalkboard even as cold rage burst through him. How dare he bring up Genesis and Lazard! If it hadn't been for their traitorous actions, he wouldn't be in this mess. "They were nothing: nonentities tied to Shira's whims through their own insignificance. _I_ keep Shinra running as the primary force on Gaia and make sure your precious SOLDIER maintains itself as the Company's strong arm. Don't think for an instant that it would last without me."

Sephiroth was silent, his green eyes measuring Hojo with the detachment of a predator.

"Find that container, Sephiroth. It's the only way to ensure that SOLDIER doesn't become a joke any more than it already is. The President's tolerance for the antics of SOLDIER right now is extremely low and if your men have no use—" Sephiroth's eyes glinted with something dangerous and Hojo cut himself off, taking an involuntary step back.

"Find it," he reiterated steadying himself under Sephiroth's stare. "Leaving that container in the hands of a thief who is connected to this new terrorist group benefits no one and that includes you. Although I doubt they realize what they have."

"And what _do_ they have, Professor?" Sephiroth asked through narrowed eyes. "You've charged me with this task but have not seen fit to enlighten me about what is important enough to bring down both the Science Department and SOLDIER in one fell swoop." His voice was openly mocking but the tone of the question was serious. "What is in the container, Hojo?"

"That is not your concern. What _is_ your concern is getting it back. Do it." Hojo felt the air in the room drop several degrees as Sephiroth stared at him coldly. He decided that he had made his point clear and he would retreat. For now, he thought with a malevolent smile, and turned to leave. It was only a matter of time.

The door snapped close behind him.

* * *

Sephiroth exhaled as Hojo left the room and the tension that had tightened his shoulders disappeared.

Whenever Hojo was near it was all he could do not to end the life of the scientist right there; one quick snap of the neck, one slice of Masamune to the throat or heart was all it would take. He had envisioned it so many times that he knew it was only a matter of time before he lost patience and the inevitable occurred. When it did, he needed to be prepared. Shinra would be very unhappy about the death of their pet scientist at the hands of their "Science Project."

Which is why he needed to know what was in that container that had been stolen and why Hojo was so desperate to find it. Ever since Genesis and Hollander had escaped from Shinra, Hojo had become even more of a madman than usual.

But since Nibelheim, Hojo had become…almost frantic.

According to rumor, he had begun spending every spare moment in his lab, never stopping to rest or eat, and muttering constantly under his breath.

Whatever was in that container was Sephiroth's ticket to freedom. Shinra needed it badly, which meant it was enough leverage to win free of his prison. He had not seen Shinra as the prison it really was before the death of Angeal or the desertion of Genesis and Lazard. He had never known any other home, had even thought that Angeal and Genesis were his friends, but had they really been? Or had that been more manipulation to ensure their hold on him?

But now…now he was under no misconceptions about how Shinra disposed of those the company no longer had any use for. It would only be a matter of time before he too became expendable. SOLDIERs like him did not retire. They disappeared completely.

He had already let Zack know of his decision, which was the reason that his lieutenant was suddenly sticking to him like glue and was refusing to take any missions. Zack was torn between the duty he felt to Shinra and the loyalty that had been built between the two of them during the last two years.

Sephiroth understood, and would not belittle his friend's decision, whether he decided to stay with Shinra or not. Since the disaster in Nibelheim he knew that Zack had experienced the same doubt that had been festering in Sephiroth's mind, but unlike Sephiroth, his lieutenant was filled with youthful visions of honor and integrity.

_Youthful visions. _The phrase brought him back to the present and he suddenly remembered his earlier meeting with Zack's new protégée.

He had been surprised at the level of maturity the trooper had shown, especially when accompanied by such fragile good looks. Cloud Strife had a doll-like prettiness that would make him the obvious target for bullying, but his eyes…his eyes had been eerily familiar. He could swear he had seen them somewhere before. It would be hard to mistake that shade of blue, as deep and as rich as the water surrounding Costa del Sol.

Cloud Strife had held him with a regard that was decidedly masculine in its directness. Seasoned. Knowing. A touch of valiance. A portion of pain and much resignation. The young MP had gazed at him like a boy who sold himself might look at his buyer: with fatalism, submission, defiance, and a touch of damning anticipation. It was an expression that said, "Do it, and be done." And it aroused him.

Individuality had marked his features with absolutes: golden hair that spiked asymmetrically around his fine-boned face, the spikes cresting on the back of his head like some kind of wild chocobo. Wide cheekbones, square jaw with a hint of puppy softness that would probably disappear as he got older, high-arched eyebrows a shade darker than his hair. His mouth alone had been a subtle creation, tender and seemingly soft.

He had looked to be made of smoke, burned from within, a delicate vessel whose very center had been singed.

And his voice, soft and deep…it too had been familiar, but for the life of him Sephiroth could not place where he had heard it. He would eventually remember. He always did.

Part of his anticipation in meeting Zack's trooper was of course due to his current obsession with finding the thief. He found it ironic that Zack had befriended a trooper during their current situation, in which an MP or cadet was the most likely culprit of the current crime sprees.

He had examined Cloud Strife with his thief in mind, but it had been hard to reckon the brash, sensual, lithe and athletic Shinra Thief with the quiet and contained young man who had stood in front of him. He had lacked the Thief's fevered hubris, although Sephiroth had sensed the trooper's inner tension, his nervous intensity.

His slight and subtle air of defiance in the wake of Sephiroth's harsh words had been the only substantial evidence of similarity between the two, and it had been that, more than the trooper's obvious beauty, that had caught his interest.

Furthermore, Cloud Strife's performance insofar as Shinra was concerned had been neither outstanding nor noticeable. His file had displayed nothing but an adequate showing. What Zack found so special in Cloud was beyond Sephiroth, but if his lieutenant saw potential then there had to be something there. Zack was more intuitive than most people gave him credit for, though he often used people's tendencies to underestimate him to his own advantage.

Maybe Cloud Strife did the same. Either way he warranted further inspection and Sephiroth's eyes narrowed on the file in front of him.

* * *

"It's done." Cid sighed as he stared at the computer screen. He had finished decrypting the disk and had called Cloud to give him the go ahead.

Cargo shipments of Shinra supplies were being kept in a warehouse located in the outskirts of Sector 5. It was good news for headquarters as they could now allocate their budget towards new equipment, and possibly even have a decent meal. Maybe they could splurge and actually go to a restaurant, although with the way things were now, it might turn into a very risky venture.

"Well I think this was a bad idea, Cid. You know Shinra is on Cloud's trail right now. We don't know if they aren't already expecting this." Tifa said as she stood up from the table where she was sitting.

The room was small and simple, and most of what occupied it was Cid's technological devices. She remembered when they had first arrived at the abandoned factory in Sector 7, a place Barret had found to house their rebel crew. It had been a definite shock, not only for her and Cloud, but for Cid as well. They had all lost something because of Shinra, people and places they loved would never be replaced, new dreams to replace the old. Cid had thrown himself into work, and she had tried to make this place a home, as much as was possible.

She looked at the steel table where she had sat just moments before, two glasses filled with water, one of which was Cloud's. He hadn't been around much lately, and it wasn't just his absence in both mind and body that bothered her. Cloud was changing. Where once he had been focused and sure of his goals and what he wanted, now it was almost as if he was receding back to the boy he had once been not so very long ago in Nibelheim.

A pang pierced her chest at the thought. She didn't have a good feeling about any of this. He didn't talk much anymore, and was becoming increasingly reckless with each day that passed. Was it his thief persona, or Shinra that was cause for his change? Maybe it was all of it together, including Nibelheim. It had changed her too, made her wary, anxious, less of the happy and trusting girl she had once been. When she thought about the reality of their situation it was all she could do to keep it together, but she had to remain strong, for Cloud, and for all those that relied on her.

"Cloud knows the risks, Tifa. We all do."

Tifa shook her head and stepped forward. "You're right, Cid, we are all in dangerous positions. But Cloud is the one that has to bear the brunt of this burden. He's doing his job. Shouldn't we do ours by making sure that the least amount of risk is being taken on his end? If he falls, we all do." Cid knew that this operation was careless and hastily put together.

Cid slammed his fist on the steel counter and the bang resounded through her body, causing her to shiver for a moment. "Damn it, Tifa! I know you want to protect the boy, but Cloud knows what he's getting into. He wouldn't be here if he didn't." His eyes were strained and tired, and Tifa moved to his side to place her gloved hand on his shoulder. He was stressed and worried, just as she was.

Barret was gone, trying to recruit more rebels for their cause, but sometimes she couldn't help but feel that it was a bit hopeless. They were barely making it as it was, their supplies were limited, and their budget was tight. "I'm just worried." Tifa said, trying to alleviate the tension that had permeated the room.

Cid put his hand on hers for a brief moment before retracting it to say, "Yeah, I know. The kid's got a way of making you feel all protective. I get it." They smiled at one another until the sound of fabric cutting through the air alerted her to the presence that was at the door.

Vincent stood at the entrance, crimson red eyes staring piercingly at the computer screen from where Cid was sitting. Horizontal lines of decrypted coding flickered on and she once more felt the ball of anxiety in her stomach tighten. She shook her head. She just had to stay positive. Everything was going to be all right.

A breeze whipped lightly across her face, a flash of red and black. Vincent was now standing beside Cid, staring avidly at the screen. It was eerie how he moved sometimes, she thought to herself absently.

"It's a trap." The cool voice of the former Turk sliced through her stomach, the ball of worry cleaved in two as her mind shattered. "That's a decrypting code we used to use in the Turks as a homing device. They know where we are and most importantly, they know where Cloud is."

Cid bellowed his disbelief, his frustration and anger more than likely directed at himself. When she spoke her voice felt strained, it was caught in a vice-like grip of fear. "I'll call Cloud."

_Be strong._ She chanted to herself as she tried to give a reassuring smile to Cid, whose face was paled and pinched, a cigar hanging tightly from his dry lips.

Vincent spoke again, his voice tight and curt, the only sign he gave that he was equally worried. "I'll start the evacuation. We don't have much time."

She nodded as she reached for her pocket, leather over leather as she touched the hard cover of her phone. Her only hope was that Cloud would pick up his phone. A bead of sweat trickled down her back and tickled the curve of her spine as she thought of how Cloud never picked up his phone, especially when he was on missions. She shook her head. _Stay positive._ The phone rang in her ear, once, twice, three more times until her heart plummeted to the spot where her stomach had once been.

She looked at Vincent and then Cid as she shook her head, as she left a short but frantic message on Cloud's voice mail before snapping her phone shut. Amidst the chaos of her mind and Cid's frantic cursing, she could only hope that everything would really be all right.

Cloud would have to fend for himself. The thought caused her stomach to churn as she hastily began to gather what they would need to take with them.

* * *

Sweat covered Sephiroth's body and his abdomen flexed rigid in the painful grip of unsatisfied arousal. He rolled over, trapping the taut, slim body beneath him. The thief's thighs wrapped around his ribs. His hands raked through the long strands of Sephiroth's hair and pulled his head down to meet his lips.

Sephiroth covered him, entered him, and the thief's hips pitched in a thick, slow roll, deepening Sephiroth's possession while confirming his own. He shuddered with the irresistible warmth of him and was welcomed by a deep, internal grip.

He cupped the bottom and lifted, thrusting deep inside. The thief inhaled on a long, shivering breath.

"Do you want me?" he gasped. Sephiroth answered with a jerk of his hips, wanting more than simple words could express.

"Do you want me?" the thief persisted, his sweaty palms slick as they slipped down over Sephiroth's back to hold him deep.

Sephiroth wanted to swallow him whole, to feel the body beneath him come over and over again against his stomach and ribs. The physical tension raked him with claws of need. His body thrummed with a desire for completion.

He heard the thief's breath, ragged and laboring and Sephiroth's muscles trembled with urgency. The sounds the thief was making increased his own need to a fever pitch as their bodies slapped together harshly again and again.

"Do you?" the thief murmured.

"Yes," he admitted. "Yes!"

The body beneath his disappeared. Melted away. Sephiroth threw back his head and growled with fury—and woke.

Self-loathing and sexual need greeted his waking state. He was rigid and hungry, whipped to a lather of sexual frustration by these damned dreams.

It had been two months since his encounter with the thief, but his craving had only increased with each passing day. Each dream was explicit and erotic and each of them ended with a demanding lesson in sexual torment.

Not tonight. He reached down, closing his fist around his turgid member and closed his eyes. He tasted the flavor of the thief's tongue that twined with his own, felt each supple and firm curve of his body pressed to him and as the vision swarmed him, enveloped him, his hand moved.

The rhythm and darkness worked a harsh release and it sped toward him with all the force of a freight train; hitting him with such force that his back arched and his breath hitched then stopped altogether, colors flashing violently behind his eyelids.

The release had done what he had hoped for and he finally relaxed back into the sheets, his eyelids closing heavily and his breath evening out. Moments later as he was easing into sleep the PHS by his bedside table began to ring and he came to immediate wakefulness to the sound of the ringing chimes.

Sephiroth leaned over, brushing silver strands away from his face as he reached for the bedside lamp and switched it on. He flipped open the PHS, his voice curt.

"Yes?"

"General Sephiroth, it's Tseng. We have them. The Shinra Thief should be at the specified location."

Sephiroth straightened, swinging his legs out of bed even as his lips curled into a humorless smile and his eyes glowed green.

"Excellent. Keep your men away from the thief's location. The others are all yours. The thief is _mine_."

* * *

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	4. A Roll of the Dice

**To Our Reviewers: LDK, Wintersheart1766 (you have it absolutely right, Clark Kent/Superman indeed. Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long), kittykitten02, Killer Rabbit of Caerbannog, rien, Clockwork Phoenix, Dragi, Haltia (loved your theory, BTW), cloudstrifejen, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, Denzal, anapana83, Zarokin, Blooming Delirium, KHfujoshigirl98 (as always, we love you), firedraygon, pharitse, C-loke, Piper Julian, Azule228, Saria19, Koruyuha, RoseCaliberxCiel, Toki Mirage, and superfan8 (thanks for all 3 of your reviews).**

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"_**All human actions have one or more of these seven causes: chance, nature, compulsions, habit, reason, passion and desire.**__**"**_

_** - --**_**Aristotle**

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The night was an opaque blanket of pitch black with no hint of starlight to disrupt the darkness that had fallen with the setting sun. The gloom was so thick that the thief felt that he could reach out and touch it. If he closed his eyes and leaned out, he wouldn't fall; he would dissolve into its vastness, or disappear into it like the smoke rising above the city.

The earth below was ethereal beneath the fog that lay over Midgar, like glimpses of a rotting corpse hidden beneath a dirty shroud. Up here his nerves were attuned to every nuance and his senses hummed with the sensual pleasure of giving in to his compulsion.

He wanted to shed his humanity, abandon it to the animal prowling within him, that sacred conscienceless creature without past or future, just the single focus of his intent: the Shinra warehouse where he might uncover more of Shinra's secrets and ultimately find a way to bring the Goliath to its knees. All it would take was one thrown stone to the head of the Giant to bring it down forever.

He pulled the black cap down over his hair, tucking in a few stray blond spikes before readjusting the black silk mask over his eyes. The length of rope draped across his chest was heavy and he was forced to alter his stance to better balance himself under its weight. His pack was secured to his waist and he fiddled with it for a moment, checking its contents and ensuring that his PHS was turned off. One ring of the phone at an inopportune moment could ruin everything. He adjusted the buckles of his pack and made sure it was secure before moving toward the edge of the roof.

The night was cold around him and it penetrated his joints and stiffened his fingers. It would have numbed his heart if the organ wasn't already deadened.

He needed this to awaken it, these intense and empowering moments, when he risked nothing more important than his life, when he belonged only to the night and the cold distant stars hidden by the city smog.

He trotted sure-footed along the roof's slick surface still damp with the hanging drizzle and his senses swam under a flood of sensation. Sound was an ocean, color a banquet, breath and movement a symphony. He reveled in it, and for the first time in months, drew in a breath of air then let it out, feeling his muscles go loose and the tension seep from him. A smile curved his lips and he had to bite his lip to stifle a laugh. Oh, how he had missed this!

He peered over the eaves and saw a patrolling MP, wondering idly if it was someone he knew before he dismissed the thought. There was no place for that here. He was only the thief tonight and the trooper below was just another one of Shinra's lackeys, probably out looking for him.

Let him search. He would never find him.

He ran lightly, his breath streaming from him in perceptible white clouds. Some of the rooftops were steep-pitched and were not as easily navigated as the flat broad peaks, but his figure would still be hard to discern against the black background. He had chosen a perfect night for this. There was no moon or starlight to cast the visible shadow of his form.

He did not consider the danger of unsure footing. He did not care. He only wanted one thing from this night; an end to the dreams and resurrected pain.

He went on, his direction unerring, his flight straight as a night owl's. He had memorized the location and he needed no instruction to find it.

He came to a chasm demarcating the street below and flung himself into the emptiness above it, laughing as he landed on the other side, pushing himself to go faster, quicker than his betraying mind could form the silver monster's face.

Another roof, another street, another leap. His muscles stretched and shuddered, his pulse raced like a rabbit's, and every inch of his skin throbbed with racing blood trapped just under the surface. He scrambled lightly up steep slate metal shakes to the top of a broad unlit building.

He was there.

He caught his breath, trying to ignore the sudden, vague premonition that tightened his mouth with pain and challenged the feral light in his eyes. He shivered, breaking free of its petrifying hold.

The Shinra Thief took what he wanted. No one and nothing would stop him, not when he was so close.

He crept to the edge of the roof and hung over the side, directly below which gleamed a large narrow window, its ledge no wider than a man's hand.

Where were the guards? If this was such an important cache of supplies for Shinra, wouldn't there be soldiers on patrol?

That was it, the source of his unease. It was much too quiet, the night still, the silence uninterrupted by the restless footsteps of the security night watch.

This wasn't right. It was too easy. His agitation grew, mounting into true apprehension that caused his loose limbs to tighten with tension and forcing him to his knees in an uneasy crouch.

The sound of whipping fabric tore suddenly through the quiet, snapping in his ears and he turned his head around to search for the source of the noise but before the movement was even complete he was grabbed from behind and sudden darkness descended upon him.

_Tifa was right. _

It was his last coherent thought before his mind went completely blank and he fell limply into the embrace of the figure that caught him.

* * *

Yellow grime lay heavy on the glass of the small window in the little back room of the warehouse. It would've taken months for that amount of dirt and dust to congeal in such a manner onto the slick surface, which made the fingered lettering printed into the grunge that much clearer.

_**It pays to have friends in high places**_

_**Better luck next time**_

Sephiroth stared at the message. His fists were clenched so tightly that the creak of leather gloves was audible and made all the more perceptible by the lack of any other sound in the vacant storage facility. He made an almost visible effort to relax, years of training in keeping his emotions under iron control coming to the forefront.

There were more players in this game than he would have anticipated. He had no idea what the scrawled impromptu note meant, but it was his job to find out. And he _would_. He had never failed yet to accomplish what he had set out to do and he was not about to start now, despite the fact that his career as Shinra's General was coming to an end.

This wasn't the work of his thief; that much was obvious. But whoever had left the message had somehow kept the thief from falling into his trap.

The fact that it had taken Sephiroth only minutes to get to the warehouse after he had received Tseng's call was all-the-more telling. The person responsible for this would have had to know about the location ahead of time in order to intercept the thief before Sephiroth could.

Moreover, he would've bet that the message printed into the dust was written _before_ the unknown player had come into contact with the Shinra Thief, even more significant as far as who could have known about the trap before the disc was even decrypted.

_**High places**_

Someone within Shinra, perhaps? But who? And why would the culprit leave a message for him? More importantly, how close was this person to the thief?

Sephiroth's fists clenched once more and this time he didn't bother restraining himself, no one was there to see his lapse.

He didn't know which he found to be more offensive, the idea that someone within Shinra was responsible for this, or the ramifications that whoever it was had a personal relationship with the thief—

Sephiroth cut off that line of thought, flipping open his PHS and staring down at it for a moment in contemplation before making his call.

It would have to be someone he trusted to keep quiet about the findings. Sephiroth hit speed dial and within two rings the call was answered, albeit sleepily.

"Sir?" an audible yawn accompanied the word but the General ignored it.

"Kunsel, I need you and your team to get down to the 5th Sector warehouse which corners Fifth and Asgard. Make it now."

"Yes, sir." Unlike his previous response, Kunsel's voice was now alert and Sephiroth could make out the sounds of the 2nd Class SOLDIER hastily dressing.

"Good. And I don't want you letting Lt. General Fair know about this, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Sephiroth flipped the PHS shut before striding over to the warehouse entrance. He knew that he could have called Zack, that he _should have, _but his SiC was already worried about him. He didn't feel that he had the energy to explain to him why this was so important.

Right now he had other problems.

* * *

Cloud woke up feeling as if an anvil had been dropped on his head, much like in the old cartoons he had watched on Sunday mornings as a kid. A sudden picture of a coyote chasing a roadrunner played in his mind for a moment before he brought himself back to the present.

The assailant must have hit him extremely hard for his thoughts to be so muddled.

The side of his head felt raw and bruised, a trail of already dried blood had caked his hair into a mat of sticky spikes, the metallic smell heavy in his nostrils.

"Finally, you're awake. You've been out a long time. Funny, but I would've thought your skull to be a lot tougher."

He closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing the bile that rose to his throat in response to the sudden instinctual movement that his head made in the direction of the voice. _Yup, definitely a concussion._

"You should be thanking me, you know. I really saved your ass back there," the voice continued. This time Cloud slowly turned his head to look at the speaker, gingerly opening his eyes although he still didn't want to venture sitting up.

The light was blinding and made the blood pound in his head for long moments before he managed to focus his somewhat fuzzy vision upon the figure seated in a chair next to the bed he lay upon.

A black cat with white markings on his face and chest sat there looking at him somewhat impatiently. He had, strangely enough, human-like hands rather than the expected paws, five digits for each, which were covered by white gloves. To compound the human-like resemblance, rather than hold himself on all fours in the way of all felines, the black cat sat erect as any human would. A golden crown was perched upon his head and a crimson cape hung loosely from his shoulders. All-in-all, Cloud felt that his earlier musings about cartoons were not entirely off the mark.

"Cait Sith?" he managed to croak. His throat felt exceptionally dry, which didn't help with the constant swallowing he was forced to do in order to keep down his dinner.

"Who were you expecting?" Cait Sith asked, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. "Sephiroth? I'm sorry, but you just missed him."

"Sephiroth?" Cloud asked groggily and the cat sighed in exasperation.

"Yes, Sephiroth! You were just going to walk right into his hands, or more likely, his sword, if he had anything to say about it. Luckily for you, I was there just in time to save you from your own stupidity."

Cloud began to sit up, the information settling heavily in his stomach. He had almost been caught by Sephiroth for the second time! His head swam unpleasantly as he managed to prop himself back against the pillows. Now that he was in his right mind again and not drunk on adrenaline he realized just how stupid he had been. He hadn't even checked out his target before moving on it. He usually did weeks of research and prep work before performing the actual B & E. Cid had warned him, Tifa had warned him, but he had been so confident that he wouldn't, no, that he _couldn't_ be caught. He had been secure in his training and in the knowledge that no one but Sephiroth had even managed to come close. He should have known, should have anticipated…

"Cait Sith, you're saying it was a trap?"

"Ding, ding, ding, give the genius a prize!"

"But how—"

"How am I supposed to know? This was supposed to be your realm of expertise, Einstein."

"Okay, okay, so I fucked up. I'll admit, I didn't think it through," Cloud said through gritted teeth. The cat snorted and Cloud scowled in irritation. Finding out just how _badly_ he had fucked up wasn't helping his mood or his headache. "Where am I and how long was I out?"

Cloud looked around the room and noticed the gaudy red wallpaper that was peeling from the four walls. The small chamber was windowless and a bedside table and lamp were the only two pieces of furniture. There was nothing visible that could tell him where he was or how he had come to be there.

"You're in Wall Market. I rented a room from one of the Honeybee girls, and what a hustler she was, let me tell you! She charged me an arm and a leg for this shithole. You owe me, thief-boy! Having to drag your unconscious butt through half of Midgar!" The little cat huffed in annoyance and Cloud opened his mouth to protest that his unconscious state had not been his fault but he was stopped by the thought that the cat had, by his account, stopped him from walking straight into Sephiroth's hands.

"How long have I been here?"

"Hours. Mog didn't even hit you that hard, just a little tap. I had no idea you had such a soft head although I should have guessed."

Cloud glanced over to Cait Sith's robotic stuffed moogle which stood in a corner of the room, its features showing little expression except for the faint smile it always wore. He glanced at its large hands and shuddered at the idea of having received "just a little tap."

"How did you know I was going to the warehouse?" Cloud asked, suddenly suspicious.

Cait Sith sighed in the way that a person does when forced to explain something they consider to be very obvious to someone they regard as less than intelligent. "I saw you, of course. You may have been able to slip easily past those guards, but I _do_ have cat eyes, you know. I see very well in the dark. So I followed you." Cait Sith finished his explanation and jumped onto the bed next to Cloud's still-prone form, causing him to wince slightly as the movement jarred his head.

The cat's eyes suddenly widened in concern as he realized just how hurt the young thief was. For his part, Cloud was feeling exhausted and just wanted to sleep, but instead was reduced to muttering under his breath "just a little tap, my ass."

"Here," the cat said, lifting a gloved hand to Cloud's temple and suddenly his ferocious headache was gone and he sighed in relief, the green glow of the Cure spell fading as the pain disappeared completely. Cait Sith dropped his hand from Cloud's head. "Better?" he asked.

Cloud nodded and was relieved to find that the movement no longer hurt. They both said nothing for long minutes and Cait Sith appeared to be thinking something over, hesitating as if he wished to say something although he did not speak. Cloud was suddenly reminded of the first time he had met the little black cat.

It had been years ago when he, Vincent and Tifa were still trying to decide how best to implement their plans to bring down Shinra and Cloud had only just begun his training. They had stopped at the Gold Saucer on their way to the coast; their idea was to take a boat to the main continent, to Midgar.

Cloud had never seen such a sight as the Gold Saucer in all of his young life. From every corner shone bright lights in every hue of the rainbow; pinks and purples, reds and greens, blues and yellows. The Saucer itself was gold; not the pale gold of a spring sunrise or the dark gold of the summer sun just before it sets, or even the yellow-gold of Cloud's hair, but a true gold, the 24-carat kind which makes only the finest art and the finest jewelry.

There were people in abundance; tourists on vacation and professional gamblers who spent all year-round there in order to make their living. Slot machines rattled and the constant _cha-ching cha-ching _became the beat that added itself to the tinny background music, further enhancing the carnival-like atmosphere. Games of all kinds could be found there; card games, throwing games, shoot-the-duck, and pop-the-weasel, but the biggest draws were the races, and chocobo racing was by far the most popular of these.

And that was how Cloud came to be alone. Vincent had gone off somewhere which was not uncommon for him, and Tifa had decided to watch the chocobo races while she had the chance, thus leaving Cloud alone to brood.

Back then his nightmares had come every night like clockwork and he had been restless and edgy and filled with the terrible sadness that seemed to superimpose itself over every other emotion he felt. The snarky little black cat had come upon him in such a state and had offered to tell him his fortune.

Cloud had been in no mood to put up with small talk, had in fact not been in the mood to talk at all, but Cait Sith, as he had called himself, wouldn't let the matter drop and he had given in because it was easier than arguing.

_You will lose something you never knew you had. You will gain something you never hoped to find._

Cloud still remembered the fortune the little cat had given him; maybe because at the time it had seemed so ridiculous, or maybe because they had become friends since then and their first meeting had made an impression. Regardless of the reason for it, he remembered, and the memory served to send a shiver of premonition down his spine, goose-bumps following in its wake and tension seeping back into his body.

Cait Sith had become, more or less, a part of their group since then although he had been known to disappear for long periods of time. Gathering information, he said. More-often-than-not their targets were on his recommendation.

"Why _did_ you act so foolishly tonight?" Cloud's thoughts were interrupted by Cait Sith's question and he flushed bright red in embarrassment over the blatant and justifiable set-down. Contrary to the tone of the question, the black cat's face was simply curious, his brow furrowed over narrow eyes. Cloud's face was still hot with mortification over his own lack of foresight and general stupidity, and so when he answered, his voice held all the uncertainty and sheepishness of a child being upbraided by a parent.

"I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time." Cloud bowed his head for a moment, propping his arms up on bent knees before venturing to look up at his companion. The cat said nothing in response but merely made a thoughtful purring sound in the back of his throat and Cloud could not read his expression.

_Why __**had**__ he done it? _It was becoming more and more apparent that lately he had not been himself. Tifa was very worried for him and made no attempt to hide it. They had been through so much together and she had learned his moods better than anyone.

She was afraid for him and the palpability of it had caused him to withdraw from her, from any reminder that what he was doing was wrong.

Up until now he had thought her anxiety to be unwarranted, the product of an overactive imagination, but Tifa's imagination was not that lively and he now recognized in himself the signs of self-destruction. Each foray out as the thief required greater risk to achieve the escape he sought and the freedom from his fears and doubts. Like a drug he couldn't get enough of.

Had some part of him wanted to be caught by Sephiroth?

Cloud's hands clenched into fists. The thought was untenable. Unimaginable. Why would he want such a thing? A picture of the General's face flashed to his mind, green-eyes alight with some unexplained emotion as he gazed back at him from behind his large desk, silver hair a sweep of frost against porcelain skin.

Why did the General strike him the way he did? It wasn't his memory of him from Nibelheim that haunted him now, but the way Sephiroth had walked toward him two months ago, a large cat surveying prey before making the leap. Sephiroth's hands had been firm as they traced up his calves and thighs, seemingly well-shaped even in the dim light, a musician's hands perhaps, graceful and long-fingered. Cloud swallowed and shivered on the bed, his breath faltering in his throat for an instant before he noticed Cait Sith watching him.

"Is this really worth it, Cloud?" The black cat asked. He was now seated in front of him on the bed, his small legs curled up in Indian-fashion, his head tilted in question.

Cloud had asked himself that on more than one occasion: on those interminable nights when the dreams came, Nibelheim in flames, the dying cries of the villagers echoing in his ears; when he heard Tifa crying into her pillow at night; when he saw Barrett and Tifa and even Vincent chuckling over some ribald joke of Cid's, knowing that they were all in danger, wondering if this was the right path for all of them. Oh yes, he had thought about it.

"We don't have much of a choice, Cait," Cloud said softly, the whispered words came out sadly, like the last dying piano notes in some tragic symphony.

"What happened in Nibelheim?" Cait Sith asked and Cloud stiffened on the bed. He didn't want to talk about it. Ever. He didn't want to think about it. It didn't matter that the memory was never far from his mind. He wouldn't even discuss it with Tifa and she had been there.

Silence filled the room, the only answer to the cat's question long, drawn-out seconds of soundless division. For that was what it felt like, and to Cait Sith, Cloud had never seemed more distant, more reserved than he did in that moment. The thief lowered his gaze to the bed, fear and self-loathing a bitter metallic taste in his mouth and the cat finally sighed in resignation.

"Come on. We'd better get you back to the barracks." He stood up, jumping off the bed and hop-stepping toward his moogle which was still standing immobile in the corner.

"No," Cloud said, beginning to realize the gravity of the situation. He hung his head, placing his forehead on raised knees, his voice muffled as he spoke again. "They'll already have noticed that I'm out of my bed. I was supposed to be on guard duty an hour ago. It won't be long before they declare me AWOL"

"What about that SOLDIER friend you've talked about, Zack-something-or-other?"

"Zack," Cloud murmured in confusion, not quite understanding Cait Sith's non sequitur. Finally his eyes widened as he understood what the cat was getting at and he shook his head slightly. Zack could be used but he didn't want to use Zack, to use anyone. He winced, his stomach roiling with sick guilt at the thought of how he was deceiving him, the deception and the outright lies. He was tired of being dishonest, of the ruse of friendship that he was forced to assume to maintain his position in Shinra. The damnable thing was he _did _consider the 1st Class SOLDIER to be his friend; there was nothing deceitful about that. He was only afraid that Zack wouldn't see it that way.

But he also knew he was being a hypocrite. He loved being a thief; it was his only freedom from the destiny that had shackled him. He wouldn't—_couldn't _give it up. He was walking a fine line and the only problem was that he wasn't sure if he could see the line anymore. Too many people could get hurt, could be affected by his actions—Zack, Tifa…

"Shit," he said. "Tifa!"

Cait Sith shook his head and sighed in exasperation. "You truly are a blonde. I was beginning to wonder. I thought for a minute that I was mistaken. Glad to know you're staying true to form." Cloud was about to open his mouth in protest of the insult when the black cat continued, "I already called her and they're fine. They had to evacuate the base because apparently that decrypted disc had some kind of homing device, but everyone's fine."

"Damn it! It really was a trap, wasn't it?" Cloud asked in equal parts frustration and despair. _He _had done this, had brought this upon them. He should've realized that the information was false, that the decryption code was just another means to ensnare the Shinra Thief. Sephiroth had been there to catch him the first time, and he'd been there again tonight, according to Cait Sith. Now that Cloud thought about it, what had Cait Sith been doing there? He looked over at the black cat, sudden distrust rising within him. "Cait? Did you know I was going to walk into a trap tonight?"

"How would I have known that? Remember Cloud, I'm not the one who chose the target tonight. _You did._" Despite the cat's pointed comment, he felt that something wasn't adding up. The timing of his arrival had been a little too perfect and he hadn't exactly answered his question.

"I'm not a traitor, Cloud." His mouth dropped opened in astonishment. He had never told Cait Sith about his suspicions! "Nor am I stupid," he finished pertly as if in reply to Cloud's unspoken thought, hopping onto the back of the moogle and looking back at him expectantly.

He closed his mouth, not sure what to say or whether he should apologize, but instead asked the question that had been buried in his mind since the cat had first joined their party. "Cait, why are you here?"

The little black cat smiled at him silently and it seemed to Cloud that he was being deliberately mysterious. "I already told you. I want to see if your fortune comes true."

* * *

Tseng was aware that the entire night before had been what Reno would call a 'total and complete clusterfuck'. Neo-AVALANCHE had disappeared; the only signs left from their base an overflowing ashtray full of cigar butts and a pile of dirty magazines attached to a neon pink sticky note that read:

_Thought I'd leave this for you. Enjoy_.

Nice to know the terrorists had a sense of humor. The President certainly didn't. Tseng wasn't looking forward to the debriefing session that was scheduled for later that morning nor was he looking forward to explaining the underwhelming amount of evidence that they had found. Whoever had wiped the place clean had been a pro, someone on level with the Turks. Their only hope lay in the leftover cigar butts and whatever DNA they could get from it, assuming that whoever it belonged to could be found in their system. Tseng very much doubted that would be the case.

The question that was beating at him now was how they had known that the broken decryption code worked as a beacon. Very few people knew about it, and the only ones who did were Turks.

"So you're telling me that you found nothing." Sephiroth's tone was empty of any emotion but Tseng didn't need to be a mind-reader to tell that the General was displeased with the news.

He had joined Sephiroth in his office after thoroughly going over the abandoned warehouse, where again, no traces except for the message left in the dirt of the window had been found. He had not slept at all, and he was quite certain that neither had Sephiroth.

"How is it they knew you were coming, Commander? Or are you so certain that there is no possibility of a leak in your department?" Tseng could not read Sephiroth's expression as he was turned toward the window looking out at Midgar which was now lit by the first rays of sunrise.

The question didn't surprise him. He would have been a fool not to have considered it, especially given the message left for Sephiroth at the warehouse, but the idea was still somehow preposterous. Every one of his Turks had been hand-chosen by himself and the idea that one of them might betray Shinra was ludicrous.

Tseng maintained his own stoic façade even as the General turned to face him, features blank and cold green eyes narrowed inquiringly. "I have considered it but there is no real evidence to support such a claim. It is far more likely that either someone who's working within Neo-AVALANCHE was aware of the decryption code or that our unknown informant was responsible. Or perhaps they are one-in-the-same."

Sephiroth turned back toward the window; his hands were clasped behind his back, trapping long silver hair beneath leather-clad arms. "You are talking about the same informant that notified us of the Shinra Thief's whereabouts two months ago?"

"Yes."

"And you have no more information about the caller now than you did then?"

"We had two days to set up the information on the President's computer for the thief after the call was made. That means that whoever phoned us had access to the thief's plans in advance, clearly someone who knows him or works with him." Tseng stirred restlessly for a moment in the hard-backed chair which had obviously been designed more for function rather than comfort. His eyes burned with lack of sleep and he desperately needed some coffee but he pushed his physical discomfort away in order to concentrate on the discussion. "We managed to trace the call to a disposable PHS which could have been bought anywhere."

"So you have nothing on the informant, then."

"No." Tseng felt the first stirrings of irritation blossom at the inherent criticism of the statement. "What we don't understand is why the informant let us know the thief's plans to break into Shinra Headquarters but didn't tell us the location of Neo-Avalanche's base. And why did he call you, not security or the Turks?" Tseng waited, hoping that Sephiroth would give him some kind of answer or, at the very least, turn around so that he could evaluate his expression in response to the question. He had a feeling he wouldn't have been able to deduce much, but anything was better than nothing. Right now his level of frustration was mounting, more questions than answers available, and the General's own role in the current situation was an increasing mystery to Tseng.

"Those are not the only questions, are they, Commander?" The General's tone was crisp and cold and it took Tseng a moment to catch up to what he meant. "Why would this person have informed us two months ago as he did, only to save the thief now from our trap?"

"I don't know." He really didn't. It made no logical sense. If the thief was as smart as the General believed him to be then he must now be aware that there was a spy within Neo-AVALANCHE. Why do such a thing, bring about suspicion within the organization only to rescue it from being destroyed?

"The thief has an accent." Sephiroth turned as he spoke and crossed back to the desk, towering over Tseng before pulling out his chair and taking a seat. Tseng noticed that he was careful not to sit on his hair, sweeping it aside in a casual and practiced gesture before taking a seat and leaning back.

"So you've said." It was Tseng's turn to stare penetratingly at the General, although he understood what Sephiroth was trying to say.

"It sounded local, lower-plate perhaps, although not the typical street cant that your subordinate uses."

"Reno was born and raised in Sector 7. As I understand it, the lower-plate is home to any number of immigrants, especially those from Wutai. The accent you described is, in fact, quite local, specific to the East End of Sector 7. It houses immigrants from the northern parts of the west continent." The information produced no particular reaction from Sephiroth other than an obviously thoughtful expression.

"North Corel. Maybe even Rocket Town."

"Yes." Tseng didn't say anything more for a moment, letting Sephiroth digest the information before he continued. "Either way it isn't enough for us to make an accurate assessment of where the thief is from. The only real leads we have are the reviewed data pertaining to timelines of when the thief hit his targets and his obvious knowledge of security."

"The conclusion being that he is either an MP or cadet," Sephiroth said, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the desk, clasped hands held beneath his chin. His eyes were narrowed in contemplation for a moment before he spoke. "More than likely an MP. Cadets are too well monitored for them to escape detection if they are slipping out. Eventually they would be caught and I've not heard of any recent cases of cadets going AWOL."

"Hmmm." Tseng was surprised at how openly Sephiroth was sharing information, it certainly wasn't normal. Something was up. "We're still going over both the Neo-AVALANCHE base and warehouse with a fine-toothed comb. The biggest and most disturbing issue being the message left for you there." The ramifications that someone within Shinra was helping Neo-AVALANCHE were extremely serious, especially given the nature of the message.

_Friends in high places._

Tseng and Sephiroth had spent the last hour discussing it and had come no closer to a conclusion than before.

"The President will not be pleased," Tseng said dryly and a small smile appeared on Sephiroth's mouth in response.

"No," was the General's equally deadpan reply and Tseng chuckled, although there was no real humor behind the laugh. He was really not looking forward to the next couple of hours. "Speaking of which," Sephiroth said, once more leaning back in his chair, his gaze openly assessing Tseng before he continued, "Is there any real reason to make the President aware of the message?"

Tseng's own gaze narrowed on the General and his voice was cooler than normal when he replied. "You are going to have to be more straight-forward than that, General. What is it exactly that you want?"

Sephiroth's eyes were heavy-lidded, any expression there hidden by the thick sweep of his lashes. "You and I both know that the President will only make our lives more difficult over this. Moreover, if there is a high-ranking Shinra official involved in this, it behooves us to minimize the amount of potential leaks. We all know that while the President's staff is wholly committed to keeping his private life a secret, company rumors have a way of making themselves known."

Tseng didn't have to ask for clarification to know that Sephiroth was talking about Scarlet. Despite the fact that the President was married, it was well-known within the company that Scarlet and the President were having an affair. Anything that Rupert Shinra knew, Scarlet more than likely did too.

"I won't be able to keep this from him for long, I'm sure you know that," he said softly and Sephiroth acknowledged the concession with a nod.

"Yes, I understand that. I'm not asking you to. But right now it won't serve either one of our purposes to inform the President about the message, especially since we have yet to assess its validity." A small smile played around the General's mouth when he spoke again. "In exchange, I'd be willing to share information about our findings and give you greater access to SOLDIERS on missions pertaining to the destruction of Neo-AVALANCHE."

Brown eyes focused steadily on Sephiroth, evaluating the weight of the offer before he responded. "Not good enough."

"What do you want?"

His reply was slow in coming and his face held the slightest trace of satisfaction when he replied. "I want access to the Nibelheim files."

Sephiroth's expression was as blank as Tseng had ever seen it, the lines of his face utterly frozen and lifeless. Except for his eyes. They burned like raw mako, stark green against marble. "You do understand what you're asking, don't you? This isn't a game, Commander. That information is dangerous, especially right now."

"I understand." Commander Tseng, head of the Manufacturing Department, more commonly known as the Turks, was no fool and he knew what he was asking. But knowledge was power and the only way to stay ahead of this game was to have it. He didn't have to like it.

"My, you Turks do like to live on the edge." For a moment Tseng was sure that Sephiroth wasn't going to allow him to leave. He was experienced at sensing danger and right now the air in the small office was filled with it. He tensed, not sure if he was going to have time to reach for his gun. Sephiroth's sword was less than an arm-length away, leaning against the side of his desk unsheathed and gleaming like a slumbering silver snake simply awaiting anyone stupid enough to come within striking distance. But as suddenly as the air had grown heavy with menace it dissipated, and the hot glow behind Sephiroth's eyes receded.

"Very well." The General leaned back in his chair, his expression still arctic as he dispassionately examined him. "I hope you know what you're doing, Commander."

"So do I, General. So do I."

* * *

The door shut closed behind Tseng as he left and Sephiroth stood from his desk chair, stretching away the tension that had settled in his shoulders over the long hours spent with the Turk. Every word had to be guarded and thought out, every gesture minimized or planned. He knew that Tseng had sensed the murderous pressure of his will at his request for the Nibelheim files. He had not been able to help it, despite years of control, the memories that day in Nibelheim produced followed him like an insidious monster hidden in the shadows and waiting to strike at his already tautly strung nerves.

From the first he'd protested the assignment Hojo had given him. But Hojo, backed by the weight of the President's displeasure with SOLDIER, had been insistent that catching the thief was more important than any other function Sephiroth could serve. And because Sephiroth had long ago made his pact with the devil, he'd acquiesced without further protest. SOLDIERs went where they were needed.

But now the matter was no longer professional, it was intensely personal. The thief had seen to that. Far more than just his body, the thief had aroused his imagination. For the first time in his life Sephiroth had become conversant with obsession. He wanted to possess him, all of him: his tensile strength, the exquisite tyranny of his submission, his fear, and his courage.

His task was not an easy one and the thief only strove to make it harder. If it hadn't been for the interference of the President, of Heidegger, and Hojo, he would have been fine with that. The pursuit was worth it, the game itself worth more than its weight in gil. But he was running out of time and that only increased his frustration and fascination for the masked rebel.

Worst of all, if his deductions were correct and it was an MP responsible, then he would have to deal with Heidegger directly. Sephiroth couldn't help the moue of distaste that formed across his lips at the thought. He was no fool and he held no illusions about how the loud-mouthed head of Public Safety felt about him, and he was equally sure that despite overwhelming evidence of Heidegger's incompetence and stupidity, the man knew that Sephiroth found him just as distasteful.

There was no way around it. Heidegger was in charge of security and the regular military, and although most of those men served as mere cannon-fodder against the monsters that had sprung up all over the continent, in the day-to-day running of Shinra they were still a crucial component. It didn't mean that he respected their leader, however. But if an MP was responsible, was in fact his thief…his body tightened unwillingly, the release he had achieved the night before lending no more control than it would if have had it happened months ago rather than hours.

He slipped the leather coat on that had been draped carelessly across the back of his desk chair. It was still early morning, the offices of Shinra still mostly empty but for the occasional secretary or office aide making coffee or finishing work that hadn't been completed the day before.

He looked down at his PHS, examining it narrowly before making his call. It was doubtful Zack was awake, but he had to notify him of the development despite his reservations. On second thought, it was early and he was desperately in need of a shower and a new change of clothes. There was still time to give Zack a personal wake-up call, his place was on the way to his own. He put the phone back in his pocket and headed for the door.

* * *

In spite of what Sephiroth thought, Zack was wide awake, having just hung up with the phone with Kunsel. Sephiroth may have ordered Kunsel to keep quiet about his findings but Zack was still the SOLDIER 2nd's superior. If asked a direct question he was still required to answer. Or that was the story they would give the General.

The truth was that many of the SOLDIERs, including Kunsel, were worried about their General and were witness to the enormous strain he was under, especially in light of the recent developments: the desertions and deaths of Lazard, Genesis, and Angeal. SOLDIER was on shaky ground right now and Sephiroth was heavily burdened. It was Zack's job to make his life easier, with or without his knowledge. Kunsel had called him immediately after the General had woken him to request his assistance at the warehouse. It was a conspiracy, with Sephiroth in the middle and none-the-wiser. It was for his own good and Zack felt not the slightest bit of remorse at having gone behind his back to ensure it stayed that way.

He drifted from his room into the kitchen, shirtless and clad only in a pair of boxer briefs. He had slept restlessly, awaiting word from Kunsel about the findings and more importantly, waiting to find out about Sephiroth's state of mind. The General had been distracted lately, his attention seemingly splintered under the weight of politics and the search for the Shinra Thief. Added to this was Sephiroth's determination to slip Shinra's leash.

More and more Zack saw the need for it. He wanted him to stay but knew that he couldn't, not if Sephiroth was going to survive, Zack thought bitterly. Shinra had swept Angeal's death under the rug like so much dirt that needed hiding. Zack wondered how long _he_ had. He was still fairly young and deliberately gave off the impression that he was dumber than he was just for that purpose.

He made himself a cup of coffee, stirring in cream and sugar idly when a sudden sharp rapping at the front door caught his attention. He frowned, wondering who it could be at so early a time. He wasn't due into the office until eight and he had at least an hour. The rapping came again and he hurried to the door, flabbergasted to find an out-of-breath Cloud Strife on his doorstep. His blond hair was more disordered than usual, dried blood caked into the spikes causing them to stick together in a great clump at his temple.

"Cloud? Wha—"

"Zack, I need your help." For the first time since he had met Cloud, the blonde's eyes were veiled, their blue depths merely reflecting the image of his own bewilderment.

"All right. Come in." Cloud entered, his shoulders hunched, his uniform askew and dirty, and Zack shut the door closed behind him.

_What in the name of Gaia is going on?_ Zack thought, turning to face Cloud. For one instant Cloud's face flashed with something closely resembling despair before his expression closed and the veil once more fell over his eyes.

* * *

Keys reminded me that AVALANCHE is actually an acronym and therefore capitalized, in reflection of SOLDIER, also allegedly one. What either stands for, I have no idea. Anyone else have any idea?

On a different note, I have to say I was surprised at the number of people who thought Cloud would be caught in this chapter. Sorry, but I'm sort of a tease, I like to play with my food and besides, Sephy needs a challenge, don't you think?

Review!


	5. Sowing Seeds

  
id:5704625

Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. I've been having computer monitor issues. Just when I think it's fixed, the thing goes black completely. And of course I'm a broke post-grad with student loans to pay off. There isn't exactly money lying around the apartment to fix it. Sometimes, I really hate technology.

Again, thank you for all the wonderful support from you reviewers. You've made writing this fic an incredibly enjoyable experience.

Thank you to: Torinador, SparkLust, Barranca, Kichi Hisaki, Tariray, fishmaster, FifthDayOfMay, Lacero, Denzal, Lucifer's Advocate7, Anonymouse, Piper Julian, KHfujoshigirl98, pharitse, Blooming Delirium, firedraygon, Nobody, kittykitten02, Toki Mirage, Jigoku No Shoujo, superfan 8, Dragi, Clockwork Phoenix, and Wintersheart1766.

I want to especially thank LDK for your advice. It was quite helpful and I always appreciate concrit. You should be a beta if you aren't one already.

* * *

_Cunning is the art of concealing our own defects, and discovering the weaknesses of others._

_ -William Hazlitt_

_

* * *

_

Half an hour after leaving his office in the hopes of restoring himself with a shower and a fresh change of clothes, Sephiroth stood outside Zack Fair's apartment door. His behavior was peculiar to say the least and he was fully expecting that Zack would call him on it. He didn't visit his SiC outside the office. It was always the younger SOLDIER who came to his place, beating down his door with the same careless ease he displayed at work. And no matter how often he protested the invasion of privacy, Sephiroth appreciated those weekends when Zack arrived unannounced at his door with Wutaiian food in one hand, and a pile of movies in the other. Not that he would ever admit such a thing to him. His Second took enough liberties with their friendship as it was.

Still, it had been the one thing in his life until recently that reminded him that he was indeed human. Zack's lack of trepidation, his easy demeanor and casual charm in the face of his superior's cold and distant manner served as the perfect remedy to Sephiroth's barely acknowledged fear that he wasn't human at all. But now there was the thief. And where Zack's influence had been a teaspoon reminder of his status as a member of mankind, the thief's impact upon him had been that of a dump truck unloading a ton of dirt. He knew now that not only was he fallible, he was also susceptible to emotions he had never before had the desire to feel.

Sephiroth shook himself from his musings in order to knock but before he could accomplish the task the door swung hastily open on Zack Fair. The Lt. General was running his hands in frustrated motions through his heavy mane of dark spikes. His face was unshaven and he wasn't dressed, still clad in nothing but a pair of boxers.

Sephiroth raised his brow. It had been a while since he'd seen Zack so flustered.

"How long were you planning on standing out here?" he asked, frowning at the General.

"To be honest, I wasn't entirely certain you were up yet," Sephiroth replied archly.

"Yeah well, I had a long night and an early visitor." Zack motioned for the General to enter but didn't wait to close the door behind him. Instead he ran a hand once more through his hair and sighed heavily, making his way toward the kitchen.

"Do you want a cup of coffee?" he asked over his shoulder.

Sephiroth vaguely noted the stack of moving boxes in the corner of the room, most of them still packed; a dumpy sofa and reclining chair around a coffee table; and a large flat screen TV, the only new item in a room that was furnished more for comfort than style. Zack had moved in two years prior when he had made the rank of 1st, but it was obvious he hadn't gotten around to unpacking everything yet. Not surprising for someone who's idea of a deadline was 'whenever I get around to it.'

"Early visitor?" Sephiroth glanced warily around the apartment. Was he interrupting something?

"Is Ms. Gainsborough here?" Sephiroth asked, referring to Zack's long-time girlfriend.

Zack looked confused for a moment before realization dawned on his face and he gave a rueful chuckle.

"Don't I wish. No, not that kind of visitor."

It was only then that Sephiroth realized he could hear the shower running in the back of the apartment.

"Who's here?" he asked, but Zack didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed two empty mugs from a hanging rack and poured coffee into them. He handed one of them to Sephiroth then dumped two heavy tablespoons of sugar into his own brew before sipping it with a sigh.

"Actually, why don't you tell me why you're here first? Must be pretty important if you're willing to brave the wilds of my apartment," Zack said, taking steady gulps from his cup and moving into the living area.

Sephiroth followed him and took a seat on the couch while Zack chose to sit in the recliner across from him.

"The thief escaped again last night. Or rather, someone made sure he never even walked into the trap."

Zack lifted a brow at him before speaking with heavy and undisguised sarcasm. "Nice of you to let me know that you'd set a trap in the first place. You're such a brilliant model for the benefits of teamwork, General. I want to be just like you when I grow up."

Sephiroth was well aware that he deserved his SiC's mocking commentary. Zack knew why he hadn't apprised him of what was going on. His disapproval of Sephiroth's actions pertaining to the Shinra Thief was obvious but the General's obsession with catching the thief wouldn't allow for disagreement or interference.

"So, someone got in the way. Any idea as to who that someone might be?" Zack's question for all of its casual construction was accompanied by an expression that struck Sephiroth as deliberately ingenuous. The General's eyes narrowed in distrust and he frowned slightly but decided to shelve his suspicions. For now.

"The trap was set in a large supply warehouse in Sector 5. I went there after the trap was sprung but by the time I arrived it was already too late. The only thing I found was a message stating that the Shinra Thief has friends in high places."

Zack whistled. "Top brass isn't going to be pleased about that. You think someone in Shinra told the thief about the trap?"

Sephiroth shook his head. "We don't know anything yet. It could be that AVALANCHE is trying to throw us off—divert attention and send us on a wild-goose chase."

"But you don't believe that, do you?" Zack said, tilting his head slightly.

"No. I don't," Sephiroth confirmed softly and Zack sighed.

"If this goes farther than just another eco-terrorist group, Shinra may have bigger problems than we thought."

"Yes."

"So you're no closer to catching the thief than you were before."

"I wouldn't say that. Every move he makes brings me one step closer to catching him. He can't help doing what he does. It's compulsive. Addictive. Eventually he _will_ slip up and I'll be there when he does."

They were interrupted by a sudden noise from the doorway. Sephiroth went abruptly still as Cloud Strife stepped into the kitchen, entirely visible from where they were sitting.

Zack took notice of the presence of his friend with a quick glance but he was far more interested in the General's response. Intensity, so at odds with his usual cool and slightly bored manner, had crept into his expression. There was a barely perceptible tightening of his shoulders and jaw and a slight forward attitude to his posture…as if he were drawn to the trooper by a force he resisted. If it hadn't been for the last, Zack might have compared it to the expression he wore when he was on the battlefield.

Reluctantly, Zack tore his eyes away from his superior in favor of gauging Cloud's reaction. The MP had yet to realize that anyone else was present. He was helping himself to the last of the coffee, his naked back to them as he stirred in sugar. He was dressed only in his uniform pants, his feet bare, his hair still wet from the shower.

Sephiroth watched as the trooper ran his hand through blonde spikes that even when wet showed signs of defying gravity. There was something unconsciously sensual in the way he moved, some unknown allure to the manner in which he rubbed away droplets of water clinging to his neck and shifted his weight effortlessly from foot to foot, keeping his weight balanced on the balls of his feet as he altered his stance. His back gleamed pale in the morning light that streamed through the open kitchen window, catching the moisture he'd failed to wipe away with a towel. The sheen of wetness glistened from his shoulders to the base of his spine where his army issue pants clung to slim hips. It disturbed him that something so inconsequential should catch his attention and draw a response from him.

Zack had been watching the General watch Cloud. It was a little unnerving to be the witness to such intent regard, especially when directed at his friend.

"Cloud," Zack said quietly.

He anticipated the young trooper's startled reaction but he wasn't prepared for the depth of it when he spotted Sephiroth. It was lucky that Cloud had yet to pick up his coffee or it would've been all over him. Or the floor. The rosy glow that had been on his face paled to such utter whiteness that he was certain his friend was going to nosedive right into the linoleum floor.

Cloud never took his eyes away from Sephiroth, nor, Zack noted, did the General take his eyes away from Cloud.

"Come here, Spike. Sit and have some coffee."

He was trying to diffuse the sudden tension and he nearly breathed out a sigh of relief as the trooper picked up his coffee and warily made his way across the kitchen and into the living area. Cloud stiffened for an instant, looking down at himself hastily and nearly pouring coffee onto the floor.

"I should get dressed first, Zack." His previously pale face had flooded with color and Zack nearly chuckled at his young friend's mortified expression.

"I'm pretty sure that Sephiroth is fine with how you are. It's a little early in the morning to worry about formalities."

Cloud didn't look up, just studied his bare feet until Zack gave a little sigh. He was startled when Sephiroth chose to speak.

"If you'd be more comfortable, Private Strife, perhaps you'd like to dress. There's no hurry."

Cloud met the General's eyes briefly, merely the slightest flash of blue before he looked back down and spoke quietly. "Yes, sir. I think that would be best."

"Very well then."

Truthfully Sephiroth had been thinking much the same as Strife. He too would feel more comfortable if the young trooper dressed. His state of dishevelment was pure distraction—the rosy glow of skin, the curve where his shoulder met his collar bone, the lean and graceful lines of his chest—all of it was enough to splinter his concentration. He glanced away and heard the trooper exhale with undeniable relief before he turned away.

Zack let out a huffing breath as Cloud left the room and he noticed that the General never took his eyes away from the trooper's retreating back. He waited for Sephiroth to speak and was not disappointed when moments later he asked the question Zack had been waiting to hear.

"What is he doing here?" he asked quietly, sitting forward as his silver hair swept over his shoulder until it lay in a pool in his lap.

"You have your secrets, I have mine," Zack replied impishly and he could practically hear the growl forming in Sephiroth's throat.

He deserved it. It was one thing for Zack to keep Cloud's secret since it played little importance in their professional lives. It was quite another for the General to deliberately conceal his plans from his Second-in-Command.

"You can't keep hiding things from me, Seph. It doesn't matter that I don't approve of what you've been doing lately. We're a team. We have to be for any of this to work. And don't pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about."

Sephiroth was silent for a moment before he finally gave a small sigh. "You're right, Zack. I'm sorry that I've been trying to keep you out of the loop. Although I'm fairly certain that Kunsel has already called you and informed you of what happened last night. He's probably been keeping you apprised all along."

Zack had the grace to smile sheepishly. "Yeah well, I'm not the only one who's concerned about you. How did you know?"

"You're not the best liar, Zachary, nor are you particularly apt at hiding things," Sephiroth replied drily. "I'll find out what's going on with Strife sooner or later."

Zack opened his mouth to argue but they were interrupted once more by the entrance of Cloud, now fully clothed from his clunky brown boots tied neatly in double knots to the matching gloves covering his hands.

"I should get going, Zack." His voice was muffled against his loosely wrapped gray neck-warmer as he spoke. Even with Zack's enhanced hearing he almost couldn't make out the words.

"Sit for a minute. You're not due back at the barracks for another couple of hours, right?"

A small child would have noticed the longing glance Strife cast at the door before he reluctantly moved farther into the room. He froze for an instant when he realized the only seat available was next to the General.

He gingerly sat down next to him then leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs, his blond head bowed as he gazed down at the carpeted floor.

The General examined him, superimposing the image of his thief over that of Cloud. He could little imagine it. Still he tried to picture it: his eyes avid with excitement, his small form tense with anticipation, his boldness its own reward.

"I didn't expect to see you here this morning, Strife," Sephiroth finally said.

"I just got off my shift, sir."

"That doesn't explain your presence here," Sephiroth replied coolly and instead of withering under the steady green gaze the way most troopers, or even the way most SOLDIERs would have, Cloud met the General's gaze with his own.

"I invited him over for coffee, Seph."

Zack's sudden interruption into the conversation was surprisingly unwelcome. He wanted to learn more about this MP, to discover why Zack found him to be of interest. And to measure his own fascination as well, he thought to himself wryly. For he did find Strife intriguing. He seemed entirely without artifice, not given to the polite dictates of courteous speech. Furthermore, seldom did he meet the person that could maintain so little movement, could hold themselves so still.

Zack continued, breaking into the General's thoughts. "I knew that I wasn't going to get to see him any other time today and I wanted to talk to him about the SOLDIER entrance exam."

Sephiroth turned to look at him with a raised brow. He clearly didn't believe Zack but he wasn't going to question him in front of Cloud—he would get the truth about what was going on later. And Zack knew it too, if the rueful smile gracing his mouth was any indication.

"Did you get any sleep last night, Cloud?" Zack asked.

Cloud looked startled, as if he wasn't used to anyone showing concern for his welfare. It didn't surprise Zack. His young trooper friend was the definition of a loner and as far as he knew Cloud didn't have a family. Pity welled in his chest but he deliberately buried it under a smile as he spoke.

"Why don't you stay here and get some sleep? You can come to my office later so we can discuss the exam. It wouldn't be too much trouble for me to talk to your commanding officer so that you—"

"No." Cloud looked angry for a moment and Zack felt bewildered.

The blond trooper closed his eyes as if he needed to steady himself. "I'm sorry, Zack. But I shouldn't take any favors from you. You know how the MPs are. They already know we're friends but if they think that I'm shirking my duties because of it then—"

"I understand." Unfortunately, he really did. Cloud's life was hard enough right now and Zack would only make things worse.

"I'd better get going," Cloud said.

He wanted to protest but the MP was already standing up, leaving his coffee untouched and forgotten on the table. He shot a fleeting look at the General, something fierce and intense sparking in his blue eyes before he nodded his head in polite acknowledgement. He then turned and made his way toward the door.

"I'll try to come by later and see how you're doing," Zack said as the trooper opened the door.

Cloud hesitated, glancing briefly over his shoulder before he bowed his head in a nod and exited with a quiet click as the door shut closed behind him.

Silence reined for a few moments, both Zack and Sephiroth lost in thought until the General decided to speak.

"Is he having trouble with the other MP's?" he asked shrewdly.

Zack felt his eyes widen in surprise. Sephiroth always had the uncanny ability to read situations. It was what made him such a good General as well as such a dangerous opponent.

Zack sighed. There was no point in fighting it. Sephiroth would find out one way or another. He always did.

"I'll tell you on the way back to the office. Let me get dressed."

"By all means." Sephiroth's jade eyes were still on the door as if anticipating the immediate return of Cloud. Zack shook his head.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Cloud's strides picked up speed as he left Zack's apartment. He was on a collision course, obstacles and dangers around every corner. There was no longer a refuge to be found. Sephiroth had seen to that.

He had spent the better part of the morning doing everything he could to bury his emotions. The last few hours had been harrowing and all he'd wanted was a place to restore his equilibrium, to reach some kind of inner peace.

He constantly deluded himself. There was no peace, not for him. There would never be, not with Sephiroth alive and Shinra around to destroy people's lives.

The last thing he had expected was for Sephiroth to show up. He never had before on the rare times Zack had invited Cloud over.

What a fool he was. A fool—and a murderer.

He swallowed hard, the bitter tang of defeat heavy in his mouth.

Without hope, without effort, he let the memories of the last few hours wash over him.

Cait Sith had accompanied him back to the base. He'd disappeared just before they'd reached the barracks and Cloud's PHS had begun ringing.

Tifa.

Her news had been a mix of bad and good. AVALANCHE had been forced to move ahead of schedule, the raid the night before unexpected if only slightly damaging. Their time-table would have to be stepped up. At the rate that events were occurring, Shinra would send SOLDIERs out soon to decimate what they could, to sweep away any opposition be it from normal citizens or political activists. Shiva knew that the people living under the plate were none too fond of Shinra. It was their greatest advantage.

Tifa had also told him that she'd sent Wedge to cover his guard shift. The news had been both surprising and worrying. Wedge, with his long shaggy brown hair, crooked smile and flashing dark eyes bore little resemblance to Cloud, and the idea of him posing as him had been slightly preposterous. But hidden beneath a Shinra helmet it wouldn't make any difference, especially in light of the fact that he was so close to Cloud in height.

The risk had been great but apparently it had paid off. She'd informed him that Wedge had finished Cloud's guard shift and was waiting for him back at the barracks in the underground tunnel that ran beneath the base.

Very few people knew about the tunnels and most of those who did were in the highest positions of Shinra. The entire base was catacombed with them, something the Company had come up with a century earlier when Wutai had laid siege to Midgar. It had been at least fifty years since they'd been in use.

Until AVALANCHE.

It was how Cloud had been sneaking out as the Thief then back in as a guard with Shinra none-the-wiser.

He had entered the tunnel from the west section of the base where it met Sector 7's Loveless Avenue. He had expected to find Wedge at the stairs that led up into the barracks, but when he'd arrived there had been no sign of him. He'd waited for half an hour until he'd begun to grow worried. He didn't try to contact him. If Wedge was in a bad situation, Cloud's call could make things worse. Instead he'd cautiously opened the door of the tunnel that led into the storage closet where Cloud's platoon was quartered.

Still nothing. No sounds of a struggle or voices. At that time of the morning most of the guards would've been at breakfast, the rest standing post. Cloud's time would have been free after his shift for a few hours so Wedge's absence was troubling. What could have happened to him?

After another few minutes of silence he'd crept from the closet into the barracks where the bunks were lined up in rows. All of them had been empty. But then a sudden cry had interrupted the silence and he'd shot forward without thinking.

In the farthest right corner of the room lay Wedge's body, a pool of blood forming beneath his head. And Harrison had been standing over him.

The oversized male had worn a sneer of triumph as he looked down at Wedge before he'd glanced up and seen Cloud.

Harrison was the epitome of a bully. From the first day Cloud had arrived at Shinra the other MP had done everything in his power to make certain that his life was miserable. Aside from the constant name-calling, the shoves and occasional unwarranted punches to his face and stomach, he had also tried to corner Cloud once in the shower.

And that had been where it had ended. He had been able to endure the other man's bullying as long as the damage he'd done had been minimal, but rape was something he was unwilling to put up with. He'd swept Harrison's legs from beneath him before slamming his face hard twice into the tile floor. Since then, they'd had an armed truce. Or so he'd thought.

By the look of it, Harrison had lain in wait for Cloud, probably hoping to catch him off-guard and tired from his shift. Instead, he'd run into Wedge on his way to the tunnel.

"Well, if it isn't the real Cloud Strife. Or should I say, the Shinra Thief?"

He had been surprised that Harrison had caught on so quickly until he'd looked down and seen that he was still dressed as the thief, entirely in black, his face uncovered by the mask that hung forgotten around his neck.

"You are going to do exactly as I say, Strife, for as long as I tell you to do it. And you won't protest, you won't struggle, you won't make a move or take a piss unless I give you permission to do it."

No. There had been nothing inside of him that would allow anyone, much less someone like Harrison, to ever have power over him again.

Their fight had been brutal and short and at the end of it Harrison had lain dead, his eyes open and lifeless. It had been an accident. Harrison had fallen wrong when Cloud had slammed him down into the floor, his head hitting the concrete with a crack as his neck jerked at an odd angle. It had been quite obviously broken.

Cloud had stood over the dead body of his fellow MP and at the first glance of those wide staring eyes he'd vomited on the floor next to him. He'd thrown up until there had been nothing left in his stomach and his head had pounded with the sledgehammer beat of his heart.

He was no better than Shinra—than Sephiroth. Harrison had been psychotic; there had been no doubt in Cloud's mind about that. He'd been the type to torture small animals, to bully the weak, and if he'd ever had the chance, he would've enjoyed killing. He'd thrived on causing fear and the world was probably better off without him. But that meant little to Cloud. Somewhere Harrison had a family, and although he couldn't imagine the person who'd love someone like him, it hadn't been his decision to make. He'd had no right.

Cloud had cured Wedge and together they had managed to drag Harrison's body through the forgotten service tunnel. Wedge, for once grave rather than cheerful, had offered to get rid of the body. _You saved my life, Cloud, so don't beat yourself up over it._

Cloud had shaken his head in disagreement but he'd gathered up all of Harrison's personal things, placing them in the tunnel as well. To Shinra, Harrison would be just another deserter or perhaps even a suspect in their search for the thief. The irony of it wasn't lost on Cloud. The coldness of his deliberation had frozen his insides.

He knew that Vincent would tell him he was being foolish. They were at war and there were going to be casualties no matter how he wished otherwise. As for Cid, he'd probably say something like, _Put wishes in one hand and shit in the other then see which hand fills up first. _

_Zack._

It had been the only place he could think to go. With his cheerful disposition and unending good humor, he had seemed the perfect antidote to Cloud's desolation. And so he had spun Zack the brief story that he'd gotten into a tussle with some of the other MP's, the tale believable because he'd known that Cloud had faced similar trouble before. Zack had listened to him with equal parts concern and anger before offering him a shower and a place to rest.

By then, he'd been too emotionally exhausted to even feel guilt that he was lying to him.

The shower had relaxed him a little, had allowed him to forget if only for a few minutes. The respite from his thoughts had been so soothing that he'd failed to notice the presence of anyone else in the apartment. Another mistake in the mountain of them he'd made in the last twelve hours.

But oh Gaia, when he'd seen Sephiroth, when he'd finally noticed him sitting there like some god descended from on high, he'd been sure that it was over. He'd been certain that the General had come to drag him away, to put him in prison before they tortured and executed him. Or maybe he would end Cloud's life right there, would just skewer him on the end of Masamune the way he had that long ago day in Nibelheim.

He'd wanted to fight Sephiroth so badly he'd been shaking. All of his rage over what had happened in the last few hours had welled within him until his world had narrowed to the General. Cloud would never have accidentally killed Harrison had it not been for what Sephiroth had done to his village—to his mother, his neighbors. He wouldn't have had to live like a fugitive or to see the suffering that Shinra had caused so many others—Barrett, Cid, Vincent, Wedge, Biggs, and Tifa, a small group among thousands who were sharing similar or worse fates.

But as he'd sat there beside the General on Zack's couch, as he'd been the subject of his intent gaze, he'd felt his rage melt into profound weariness. He was tired, so tired of fighting to be what he wasn't. And Sephiroth's stare had spoken nothing of returned hatred, merely curiosity melded together with slight suspicion. And of course, there was that something, some mysterious feeling he'd been almost afraid to identify fixed in the green depths.

The situation had felt unreal and now as he made his way out onto the empty streets he struggled to untangle his emotions. Apprehension, relief, and gladness all swirled together, confusing what should be a clear, single note of fear. But fear, he'd lately realized, had its own savage seduction. And Sephiroth was the master of it.

He shook off the thought, recognizing it as the direction down a dark path that he wasn't yet ready to travel. He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as he made his way toward AVALANCHE headquarters.

_Seventh Heaven._

The building was anything but celestial. It was a square, dilapidated structure in the middle of the Sector 7 slums, not much more than four stone walls and some packing crates. Still the owner, who was strongly anti-Shinra and therefore supported AVALANCHE's cause, had offered them the use of his basement for their HQ. In return they had offered to help him set up his bar. The deal worked well for both parties and Tifa and the rest were waiting for Cloud there.

A curling knot of apprehension formed in the pit of his stomach as he thought about facing them, the people who'd grown to respect and trust him. Did he deserve it after what he'd done, what he was still planning on doing in the name of revenge?

No, it wasn't revenge. It was justice, he thought with a tightening jaw. Cloud made a conscious effort to stifle the guilt and misery that tightened his throat and made his eyes burn. He gave a sigh of relief as Seventh Heaven came into sight. Good. He needed the distraction.

* * *

Vincent stood in a shadowy corner of the room, his presence all but unnoticed by the rest of the Neo-AVALANCHE members. It was something that had taken years to perfect, the ability to fade into the background, to be invisible even under the stark crimson of his cape. Where was Cloud?

All morning it had been the refrain among them, until Tifa's large amber eyes had begun to dim with worry, Cid had torn to shreds the cigar in his mouth by chewing on it nervously, and Barrett had caused everyone to flinch under a stream of curses that would've made a Turk blush.

Events were spiraling out of control, their plans to free the world from Shinra so much debris swept up on a heavy wind. They were going to have to step up their plans by months. The raid by the Turks the night before had been unexpected and could have been potentially devastating to AVALANCHE's future. Had it not been for his knowledge of the decryption code all might've been lost.

And Cloud's preoccupation with discovering why Nibelheim had burned to the ground was at the center of it.

But it was more than that. Cloud was obsessed. Vincent shifted restlessly in the corner before he recalled himself. He, more than anyone, was familiar with the dictates of obsession and revenge. He would not be here now had it not been for those motives seeded in the soil of his vendetta.

Hojo. Shinra. They needed to pay for what they had done to him. But more than that, for what they had done to Lucrecia.

He didn't have to close his eyes to see her face, didn't have to sleep to have nightmares. The memories were with him always, the guilt was a disease for which there was no cure, and the dark presence of Chaos within him was a constant reminder of his sin.

Still, he was almost fifty years old as far as chronology went, even though almost thirty of them had been spent sleeping in a coffin. But Cloud was only sixteen and had his whole life ahead of him. He didn't deserve to live his life steeped in the misery that guilt perpetuated and with only the cold comfort that revenge could give him. But there was nothing Vincent could do for him but help him along.

He had no other choice but to let Cloud sow the seeds of his own destruction because in the end, he had his own goals to accomplish. And he needed Cloud to succeed. Guilt was a heavy burden to carry. Sin was worse. He needed to find some balance between his own objectives without destroying their young leader in the process. Right now he had no idea how to achieve such impossibility.

Tifa paced restlessly in the middle of the room, avoiding the packing crates arranged in disorganized stacks around the basement of Seventh Heaven. The long thick rope of her hair swung heavily against her back as she carved an unseen path through the small space.

"Tifa, relax. Spike-head will come back. He ain't that easy to catch. He's blond but he can be pretty smart," Barrett said loudly enough so that it echoed off the stone walls.

If Vincent were a different kind of man he might have rolled his eyes. Only moments before Barrett had been cursing Cloud as a dumb-fuck kid who didn't know his ass from his elbow.

"It's been too long. His shift ended hours ago. And Wedge…well, you saw how he looked. Something happened, I know it. And he won't tell me or explain why Cloud didn't accompany him back here." Tifa clenched her fists. She'd tried for hours to pry the information from Wedge, but he'd been surprisingly stubborn, his cheerful face set in a determined mask.

His reassurance that Cloud was all right was really none at all. Not with the blood staining the front of his shirt.

Vincent wasn't worried. He knew that the blood on the front of Wedge's shirt belonged to someone else, and the person in question wasn't Cloud either. The smell of it wasn't right although he didn't want to have to explain that to Tifa or to anyone else for that matter.

They already knew that he wasn't normal. No need to confirm it any further by explaining to them that he could distinguish the difference between the scent of one person's blood and another. Barrett, for one, was vocal in his opinion of Vincent's creepiness.

The door to the basement suddenly swung open and he was the only one not surprised as Cloud came through it, clad in his blue fatigues and apparently none the worse for wear.

Tifa gave a loud cry of relief as she swept over to him, hugging him tightly around the neck as he patted her back with a helpless expression. Cid rolled his eyes from his position behind the computer spitting out pieces of his cigar as he did so, and Barrett merely crossed his arms and muttered, "It's about fucking time."

Vincent detached himself from his position against the wall and moved toward him, scanning him for injuries.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

Cloud pulled Tifa gently away from him before he looked up at Vincent. Something in his eyes, some deep inner despair was there marring the clear blue depths, and Vincent knew, could see that whatever had happened had not been as simple as a narrow escape.

"It doesn't matter now. It's been taken care of." Despair hardened into something else then. It resembled the expressions of war-toughened veterans who'd seen and heard too much. Despite himself, Vincent felt an ache in his chest. It wasn't fair that someone as young as Cloud should have to experience such loss of innocence.

Unlike Vincent, Cloud had never really been given the choice.

"What do you mean? Why was Wedge covered in blood? Did you get caught?" Tifa questioned, staring up into Cloud's face as if she could read what had happened just by looking at him.

"It's fine, Tifa, don't worry about it. Nothing's changed." Tifa looked dubious and Vincent couldn't blame her. Cloud was very obviously hiding something.

He stepped over to where Cid was sitting behind the computer and leaned down to whisper in his ear. Cid nodded once and swiveled the chair so that he was facing the group.

"Well, looks like we got some things to discuss," he said, adjusting the goggles on his forehead.

Cloud nodded his head once in agreement and looked around at the others.

"Vincent, do you think we can pull off this plan ahead of schedule?"

The former Turk shifted slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he peered at Cloud.

"I've been in contact with the Wutaian Underground. They're eager to get started although I'm unsure of their reliability. Their organization is fairly scattered right now and much of their leadership is divided."

"We don't really have a choice at this point. Shinra won't hold off much longer. Eventually they'll send not only the Turks but SOLDIERs as well to root out AVALANCHE and any other threats that might pose a danger to their plans." Cloud looked down at the floor before glancing over to gauge the others' reactions.

"I can't believe it. I mean, I knew that Shinra was evil, but this…" Tifa shook her head, her eyes sad as she looked over at Cloud.

"We're going to stop them, Tifa. I don't know how they plan to do it, but we're going to do everything we can to see that they don't succeed."

"We may not be enough," Barrett growled and Cloud shook his head.

"We have to be enough, Barrett. For everyone's sake, we have to be."

"I don't know how the hell you plan on getting the President alone, much less getting the man back here. You've seen the kind of security they have. Hell, the last time you tried something like this you were almost caught by Sephiroth. I don't know what you're—"

Cloud broke into Cid's diatribe, shaking his head as he did so. "Not me. You."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Cid asked in irritation.

"You said it yourself. The last time we tried something like this I was almost caught by Sephiroth. We need the General out of the way."

"And how do you plan on accomplishing that? By offering yourself up on a silver platter?"

"Yes."

The cigar dropped from the corner of Cid's mouth. "Well, fuck me."

Cloud smiled, but there was no humor in the expression.

* * *

Sephiroth shed his coat and flung it on a chair outside his office. A month after Lazard had defected he had been offered the opportunity to move into the larger offices assigned to the Director of SOLDIER. He'd turned it down, causing a slight scandal. The space designated for his position as General was more than adequate and he had no desire to move simply to satisfy some approved social concern held up by the executives.

He sat down at his desk with a sigh and moments later Kunsel's hard-packed frame filled the doorway.

"Sir," he said, looking down at the ground as he spoke.

Sephiroth was confused by Kunsel's diffident attitude until he remembered his conversation with Zack earlier that morning. Zack had probably already informed Kunsel that he knew they'd been conspiring together to keep the Lt. General informed, despite his orders to the contrary.

"Come in, Captain."

Kunsel moved forward until he was standing in front of the General's desk, waiting for permission to sit. Sephiroth contemplated him for a moment before speaking.

"I'm well aware that you have been keeping my SiC up to date despite my orders. And if I didn't believe that you had my best interests at heart, as well as those of the Lt. General, you would be on a transport right now to the Northern Crater, where you would then rot until I felt sufficient time had passed that you'd learned your lesson."

Kunsel was silent, standing rigidly at attention as he swallowed nervously.

"I'm going to let it pass, Captain. You're one of my best SOLDIERs and I'm not ready to lose you yet. But don't test my patience again, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now have a seat. We have some things to go over."

Kunsel hurried to sit, practically tripping over himself as he fell into the chair. He sighed with relief as soon as he was situated and Sephiroth felt a small smile curve his mouth. Mission accomplished.

On the other hand, he was more than aware that if the situation dictated, Kunsel would again act in a similar manner, regardless of orders. It was one of the things he liked best about the officer although it was not something he would let him know. All the better to get his point across if Kunsel thought he was displeased.

"Were you able to acquire the information I requested?"

"Yes, sir, although it wasn't easy. Heidegger's office hasn't exactly been helpful."

Sephiroth's smile was wry as he replied. "I can imagine."

Kunsel returned the smile with a smirk of his own before he shook his head. "I won't waste your time by telling you how many hoops I had to jump through to get this."

"Maybe another time."

Kunsel laughed before continuing. "Fifty-two new troopers have been added to the base's security in the last four months, coincident to when the Shinra Thief began his spree of thefts."

"I assume you've managed to narrow it down a little."

"Yes. Ten of those MP's were off-duty during the time of the burglaries, their whereabouts unaccounted for."

"Do any of those names stand out at you?"

"I've checked into their backgrounds and four of them have questionable credentials, either because of their family origins, or because of their former places of birth and residence."

Sephiroth made a humming sound in the back of his throat as he rested his head thoughtfully on hands propped beneath his chin.

"Work on the other six, see if you can't get more on them. I'll see if I can find anything more about the four that caught your eye."

Kunsel looked confused for a moment before he handed over the files.

"Sir, are you…"

"The Turks can be a challenge to work with, but every now and then it pays off."

Kunsel smiled and shook his head. "I'll bet. In the meantime the lab is working on the evidence we managed to get from the warehouse. Nothing yet, and no trace of fingerprints that we can tell."

"The message?"

"Wasn't made by any human hand, we were able to determine that much."

Sephiroth's jaw clenched but it was the only sign that he was perturbed by the news. He looked down at the files on his desk. His eyes narrowed as one of the names caught his attention.

_Cloud Strife._

_

* * *

Review!  
_


	6. The Enemy of My Enemy

Author's Note: Normally, I'd leave a list of reviewers to thank, but honest to Gaia, somehow I always manage to leave someone off and thereby hurt someone's feelings. So this time I'm determined on replying personally. It takes more time but I prefer it anyway. Getting to talk to readers is the fun part of posting on ffnet.

AND this is the longest chapter I've written so far in exchange for how long it took to update. I am going to do my best to update faster and I'm thinking I'm going to try to put out the next chapter in a couple of weeks or so. If you knew how much time I put into writing, all of you would probably laugh.

* * *

"_There is a smile of love,__  
__And there is a smile of __**deceit**__,__  
__And there is a smile of smiles__  
__In which these two smiles meet__._

_- -William Blake_

_

* * *

_

_18 Months Earlier_

Cloud sat crouched on the small rise and stared out over the carpet of green that covered the landscape of Rocket Town. It was the beginning of spring and the leaves were new, the grass fresh and soft beneath his heavy boots. The hardwood trees canvassing the countryside were covered in moss even as small foliage began to make its appearance among the skeletal branches. Patterned among them, unforgotten even after the heavy winter's passing, were tall and short pines, their needles strong and resilient to the changing of the seasons.

None of that mattered to Cloud, however. It had been barely six months since Nibelheim had been destroyed and in that span of time his life had been utterly transformed. The irony of it nearly killed him. Here was the life he had dreamt of for as long as he could remember; new places, new people, the excitement of training to be more than just some backwoods country boy.

He remembered not long ago sitting on the window seat of his room, staring out over the mountains of Nibelheim. He remembered the longing for freedom, for excitement, for anything to happen to break him away from the pointless drifting that his everyday brought.

And here he was. He had gotten his wish.

He threw the stick he had been dragging through the dirt and stood up. It was quiet here in this little forested section behind the inn where they were staying, but in the distance he could hear the farmers' carts making their way through the small marketplace, could hear the calls of vendors and the clucking of chickens.

He didn't know why they were here. Vincent was close-mouthed about the whole thing but it wasn't as if Cloud questioned him much. Most of their conversations were brief and pertained only to his training. On some level, however, he was aware that Vincent had his own agenda

Cloud didn't care. He didn't care about Vincent, what he thought, who he really was and what his plans were. Cloud only had one goal now and every time he remembered it a hot ball of rage would burn so brightly inside of him that it scalded him, ate the skin from his bones until everything else was seared away and he was left empty and black—and waiting.

Sephiroth. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.

"Cloud?"

The tentative voice came from behind him and he reluctantly turned to face the speaker. He had known she was there but he'd been hoping she would see that he just wanted to be left alone. He was entirely selfish but he couldn't bring himself to care.

_Sephiroth._

Tifa was staring at him with a pleading expression. Always pleading, always concerned, always hopeful. Gaia, she made him feel inadequate. In that respect nothing had changed. She was still the mayor's daughter and he was still a nobody. She wouldn't be here with him if Nibelheim still existed.

Even now, both of them having lost and lived, she was the same essential Tifa. She was slightly tougher now, she had to be, but her nature was fundamentally unchanged.

He was not. Nothing about him felt the same.

But she didn't want that. She wanted him to be the same, to smile shyly at her, to reassure her that they could find a way to make things right. He was something for her to hold on to, to grasp and keep in the absence of everything she had lost.

So he would try—try for her even as he knew he would fail.

His smile felt brittle. "What's up?"

She smiled back but the worry didn't leave her eyes. "What are you doing? You've been out here for hours."

He shook his head and returned his gaze to the landscape of green. Green was everywhere, on practically every surface he looked—lichen and leaves, grass, fronds and needles. He missed the winter. Even as he thought so his focus drifted to the distant mountains, a shadow of black shapes rising above the horizon.

"Where's Vincent?" He didn't care but he knew that Tifa would expect him to ask.

"I don't know. He said he had something to take care of."

Cloud didn't respond. He was already at the limit of his polite repertoire.

"Cloud, what are we doing here?"

She came to stand slightly behind him. He felt the air stir around him at her movement, felt the current disturb the fine hairs at the base of his neck. Vincent had been training him to take notice of such things, to always be aware, to see with more than just his eyes. So he was aware of her moving hand even before she placed it on his shoulder. He tried not to tense at the contact.

He shut his eyes as her fingers dug slightly into his tunic at the base of his shoulder blade. "I don't know. Vincent hasn't told me anything."

"What do you mean he hasn't told you anything? But you're the only one he talks to. I can barely get a word out of him."

Her words came out angry. But underneath the unconcealed ire was petulance and beneath that, stark and real, was her loneliness. She had no one, no one to talk to, to comfort her. Cloud was unable to and Vincent—whatever haunted him kept him locked wholly inside himself.

Tifa was alone. If only Cloud could care.

He stirred slightly and turned so that his face was in profile to her. It was the most he could manage at that moment. Aware for the first time of her forced isolation, Cloud felt heavier than ever. Why couldn't he be what she needed? Instead, he felt that deep yawning blackness, that sensation of waiting growing inside of him.

"Cloud, why are we here? Especially with Shinra here. They say that rocket is due to launch any day now. There are Shinra guards and scientists everywhere. This is just foolish."

He saw her bite her lip out of the corner of his eye and knew it to be a nervous habit that she gave in to when she felt distressed. He took a deep breath and turned to face her. He felt detached. Numb.

"Shinra's not looking for us. We're dead, Tifa, remember? No one knows we exist." Ghosts. That was what he felt like. They were spirits, restless with no home, invisible and hopelessly bound. "I'm sure there's a reason, Tifa. Vincent will tell us when he's ready."

"How can you be so calm about this? We haven't done anything these past few months but travel and wait, wait and travel. Vincent doesn't tell us where we're going, what we're doing. And you—what are you training for? Do you even know?"

"I know." He could feel his pulse speed up at the thought, could hear his heart beating in his ears. Green eyes flashed in his mind. Green, always green.

He knew what he was training for. Vincent did too, but they both knew it wasn't enough. Vincent could teach him to fire a gun, to pick locks, to smile, to lie without any tells, to adapt, to steal, to evade and escape. It still wouldn't be enough. He didn't need to know how to be a Turk; he needed to know how to bring Sephiroth to his knees. To tell him why—why Nibelheim, why his home, why _him_?

_Why am I still alive? Why didn't he just kill me?_

Cloud's thoughts were interrupted as the barrel of a gun was pressed suddenly to his temple.

"You're dead," Vincent said, his voice harsh and deep and quiet even in the stillness of the forest. "Do I need to take you back to the beginning, Cloud? First rule?"

"Always be alert. Never drop your guard."

"Don't underestimate me." Tifa murmured and Cloud turned his head enough to see her hand suspended behind Vincent's neck in a lethal position.

Vincent ignored her. "Fourth rule?"

Cloud answered automatically. "Never count on someone being there to save you. You can only truly trust yourself."

Cloud heard Tifa's breath catch in her throat, felt rather than saw her drop her poised arm from behind Vincent's neck. He didn't need to see her to know her eyes would be full of hurt, to know that he had just driven a spike into her already shattered heart.

Vincent turned to face her. His voice was without inflection as he spoke. "This isn't a game, Miss Lockhart. This isn't a martial arts match for which there is an end. There is no sensei who will monitor you, tell you when the match is over, who will patch up your hurts and pat you on the head when you've done something right. This is not life. This is survival. And at the end, if you are lucky, you are alive." He turned his head then and spoke to Cloud. "There is only survival or death."

He left then, his scarlet cape flapping ever so slightly in the light breeze as he strode toward the inn.

Tifa and Cloud were silent for long moments after he left.

"He's wrong," Tifa finally said.

The sadness had left her and her expression reflected new determination that blazed like a fire. It was so bright that her amber eyes had turned gold with it. "You're not alone. I will always be here for you. Always. And at the end of this, when this is through, we _will_ have a life. I promise you, Cloud. We _will_."

Cloud could see the fire of her belief, knew that if he'd been anyone else the heat of it would have brought warmth to his heart. But there was no heart to warm. There was only that yawning blackness, that waiting. And green. Always green.

* * *

_Present Day_

Reeve Tuesti stared out of the window of his office. He could see his reflection there, faint as it was, and realized that he looked tired. He studied himself—the angular face softened slightly by his neatly trimmed goatee, the long thin nose and mouth, the fierce brow and black piercing eyes underscored by dark shadows wrought from sleepless nights. He shrugged and sighed before turning away then walked back to his desk, sat down, and waited.

The sky was pink now with gold just beginning to edge the horizon. Sunrise was his favorite time of day and he always made it a point to view it, whether it was from his office or at home. Today it was his office because he had too much work to do for it to be otherwise. Events were beginning to occur at a faster pace and it was up to him to make sure that they didn't spiral out of control.

Fifteen minutes later the sun rose far enough for its entirety to become visible—

And Rufus Shinra walked into his office.

The President's son and heir was beautiful. There was no other word that could be used to describe him. _Pretty_ didn't do him justice, while the word _handsome_ lacked power although perhaps _stunning_ would do as well. His face seemed to have been sculpted by an artisan's hand, perfect as it was in its symmetry. The long tail of his ash blond hair was tied neatly back in a queue and his deep-set blue eyes glimmered with intelligence and a jaded sophistication that came from years spent in the public eye.

Resplendent in a white suit, the President's son wore it with more flair and innate style than his father ever could. Then again perhaps that was why he chose to dress that way. Undermining the President through passive-aggressive upstaging was something Rufus Shinra was more than capable of.

"You know, it would be a far better idea if you were to join me in my office. I'm more watched than you," Rufus said as he walked over to the small bar and poured himself some coffee.

Reeve rested his chin upon his folded hands as he stared at Rufus's back dispassionately. "Exactly. Your office is bugged."

Rufus finished stirring his coffee, his frown noticeable as he came to sit across from Reeve. "What do you mean? The Turks sweep my office once a day."

Reeve's smile was wry. "Who do you think put them there?" Rufus opened his mouth to protest but Reeve interrupted him before he could speak. "Despite what you think, your father is still President. The Turks follow his directives, not yours."

"And your office isn't bugged?" Rufus finally said, looking around before glancing back with a raised brow at Reeve.

"Why would it be? The Urban Development Department doesn't have nearly the visible power that the other departments have. I'm sure you've noticed the other department heads sneers whenever I'm mentioned."

"We both know that you've deliberately cultivated that impression."

"Sometimes it's better to fly under the radar than over it," Reeve murmured.

Rufus smirked. "Was that a deliberate poke at me?"

"Merely an observation."

Rufus leaned back further in his chair and waved his hand dismissively. "As much as I enjoy your somewhat understated wit, I'd rather discuss why I'm here."

"By all means." Reeve studied Rufus for a moment before he continued. Despite the fact that they were purportedly on the same side, it all came down to how much he trusted him. _No further than I can throw him, _Reeve thought_. Maybe less._ "AVALANCHE has begun the second stage of the plan."

Rufus raised an eyebrow. "They're moving rather fast, aren't they?"

"Sephiroth is smarter than you give him credit for. I already made it clear to you that he'd be a problem."

"Yes, so I've heard. Tell me; is Sephiroth really as obsessed with catching your Shinra Thief as rumor has it?"

Reeve hesitated. Everything could go up in flames if he didn't keep the young Shinra in check. It was too late in the game for him to lose it now. "Perhaps. The point is that with the General stalking the thief's every move and with the level of security now present in the city, AVALANCHE had been forced to move ahead of schedule."

"Not a problem. As I see it, _when_ it occurs is not so important as _how_. My father may not negotiate with terrorists, but I am not my father."

"If you were, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Rufus's smile was radiant and lacked the cynical edge Reeve usually saw. "Exactly."

"You're not concerned for the President at all? That perhaps events may not go as planned and he might be hurt?" Reeve asked curiously.

He knew that the President and his son didn't see always see eye-to-eye and that their relationship was often as competitive as it was antagonistic, but underlying it Reeve had always sensed that President Rupert Shinra took great pride in his son. He wondered though, staring into Rufus's eyes, whether or not the feeling was reciprocated.

"No, I'm not," Rufus replied after a moment of thought. "My father, despite his recent poor choices, has always managed to come out on top. He's like a cat: nine lives minus the one he lost during his last bout with liver cancer, and even that he somehow managed to beat. I'm confident that being kidnapped by AVALANCHE will barely raise his blood pressure. If we let him, my father will be in power for the next fifty years. With every year, the Company will erode that much more."

"I'm not as concerned for the Company as I am the Planet. Our mako production has increased exponentially over the last few years. With that, there have been a larger number of earthquakes, floods, pollution and a tremendous rise in the monster population."

"You would know more about that than I."

"Yes, I do. The President continues to ignore the problem, not to mention the state the Lower Plate is in. He takes no notice of my warnings."

Rufus smiled. "Despite different goals, our agenda is the same. My father can't be allowed to hold power any longer."

He stood from the chair, adjusting his cuffs and smoothing his suit jacket before making his way to the door. He then turned with his hand on the doorknob, a slightly amused smile on his face as he spoke.

"In the meantime, make sure your little thief isn't caught. It would be quite inconvenient for us if he were." With a last wave over his shoulder Rufus was gone, the door clicking audibly behind him.

Reeve sat back in his chair, swiveling it so that he faced the window. The sun was visible now, small though it was, and the sky had turned from pink to tentative blue.

Cloud Strife. Over the last eight months he had become quite fond of him. He and the others who made up AVALANCHE. Disorganized, messy, emotional wrecks, and passionate zealots they may have been, but they were _real_. His time as a Shinra executive had made him appreciate the value of that all the more.

He didn't know how he was going to shelter them from the probable backlash the next phase of his plan would bring, but he would try. He only hoped it would be enough.

* * *

Cloud's time was running short, he could feel it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday they would figure it out, they would discover who he was and where he was from and he needed to have all of his ducks-in-a-row before that happened.

This was going to be his last chance to sneak out for a while. His entrance exam for SOLDIER was scheduled for the next day and once he was a cadet there would be no way he could manage it. It was hard enough as an MP. As a cadet it would be next to impossible.

Letting Tifa know of his plans to join SOLDIER had been harder than he had anticipated and as he had expected she hadn't taken it very well. She hadn't yelled, hadn't even really raised her voice, but the disappointment and worry in her eyes had said it all.

Cloud knew that she thought this merely another way for him to risk himself, that it was simply another channel by which to achieve his own self-destruction. He could no longer argue with her, especially in light of how close he had come to getting caught by Sephiroth.

Tifa was also aware that SOLDIER had been his once longed-for dream and she was afraid that he was trying to have his cake and eat it too. To his dismay, he couldn't say that she was completely wrong. Their already strained relationship was being tested at every turn and although he knew that she loved him (or that she thought she did), he was afraid that any ability he had to feel that emotion had been burned away along with Nibelheim.

But he didn't want to think about that. Now, he was going to see another girl, not one he loved or shared a haunted past with, simply someone who's presence gave him some much desired peace.

The thief stared down the darkened tunnel of the narrow street that ran between the adjoining buildings into the glimmer of Migar's lights. The old church was a ramshackle, sprawling building with weathered board walls and a wood shingle roof. It looked for all the world as if it could've been someone's barn except for the steeple and broken stained glass.

He made his way cautiously to the back of the building, pausing watchfully as he began to climb the side wall. His task was made easier by the pitted adobe and it wasn't long before he was seated on top of the church. He crouched low, aware not for the first time that the Turks were watching her. He was therefore twice as vigilant as he made his way to the very notable hole in the dilapidated roof and slipped into the rafters.

When he looked down he saw that she was kneeling in her usual place. Yellow and white flowers formed a profusion of color around her and just the sight of her caused the tightness that had been squeezing his chest to relax.

He took the metal end of his grappling hook and draped it over the nearest rafter before sliding down the rope. His descent was silent, more out of habit than any desire to creep up on her. Even so, she knew he was there. This was confirmed moments later when Cloud's feet finally touched the floor, and though she did not turn around, her tone was laced with humor when she spoke.

"Hello, Cloud."

"Hello, Aerith." Cloud removed his thief mask and shoved it into his pant pocket, running a hand briefly and self-consciously through his yellow spikes before coming to stand next to her. "How are your flowers selling?"

Aerith laughed from her crouched position, smoothing her pale blue skirt with hands lightly crusted in soil. "Not as well as they were before you came along. Too many soldiers on the streets are looking for you." Her eyes glinted with laughter but her voice was serious.

Cloud's brow furrowed in thought. "Is it really that bad?" he asked, suddenly feeling guilty about the idea that his forays as the thief were cutting into her profits. Aerith was poorer than he was and that was saying quite a lot. Every gil that he had stolen from Shinra had gone back into AVALANCHE's till.

She shook her head and rose, lightly brushing away a curl from her face as she turned to smile at him. "No, it's not that bad, I was only teasing. It's just the opposite, really. Since you started your Robin Hood routine," she winked and Cloud ducked his head, a reluctant smile curving his lips before she continued, "I've had much more business; soldiers wanting to buy flowers for their ladyloves. I've even been asked out on a few dates," she said, and a tiny mark appeared in her cheek as her smile widened.

"They asked you out on dates even though they were buying flowers for their girlfriends? They sound like slimeballs to me," Cloud said with a scowl and Aerith giggled behind her hand.

"That's what my SOLDIER said."

"Well, he's right." He knew that Aerith had been dating a SOLDIER for quite a while, although she rarely mentioned him to Cloud. He thought that had more to do with the fact that Aerith was a private person than out of any desire to keep quiet about their relationship.

Her smile faded slightly and her radiant green eyes grew concerned. "Cloud, is everything okay? I couldn't help but notice that there are even more troopers around than usual. Did something happen?"

Cloud studied the floor, noticing that the boards were rotting away in places although they were swept clean. Aerith kept the church as immaculate as possible. "No more than usual. I just slipped their net again." She didn't say anything and her smile was patient and understanding as she waited for him to continue. "I wanted to come say good-bye. I won't be around much anymore."

Her brow creased in thought. "Are you giving up on being a thief?"

"No, that never crossed my mind. But I have some things I need to take care of. It's not forever, just for a little while."

Cloud had met Aerith on one of his less successful raids. He had been trying to sneak out of the barracks, avoiding patrolling MPs and SOLDIERs coming in from a night of partying and had somehow gotten turned around, become lost, and run straight into a group of troopers coming off their shift. They had chased him through Sector Zero and bullets had flown in all directions. Someone had thrown a very strong fire spell at him, causing him to crash through the floor beneath him. He had hit the ground beneath him so hard that he'd blacked out and when he'd finally woken, Aerith had been crouched over him. Light had flooded over him from a hole in the roof directly above him and her first words to him had been, "That's the second time that's happened."

Since then he had come to see her whenever he had time in between ventures. She knew who he was but something about her kind demeanor had Cloud instinctively knowing that she would never tell anyone. Nor did she judge him for his chosen occupation.

Besides, she had trusted him with something equally valuable, equally dangerous.

"Cloud," she hesitated before continuing, a slight frown on her mouth as she looked at him. "Is it true that you work with AVALANCHE?"

He tensed, unsure how she had come by that information. He wouldn't have been surprised if some of the higher-level Shinra SOLDIERs knew about it, but he didn't think that was common rumor yet. Damn, they really were running out of time.

"Aerith, before I answer that, will you tell me one thing?" She didn't hesitate but nodded encouragingly.

"How did you come by that information? Did a trooper tell you?" If an MP had told her, then AVALANCHE was in far more trouble than they thought. The more people within Shinra who knew about his connection with AVALANCHE, the more likely it was that their whole operation could go down in flames.

"Um, my SOLDIER told me. Does that make a difference?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

"What rank is your SOLDIER?" he asked.

"He's a First Class. SOLDIER Zack Fair," she said quietly, and her eyes softened as she spoke the name.

Cloud felt himself go pale. Zack was her boyfriend!

"Cloud? What is it? What's the matter?" She came over and placed her hand on his shoulder but Cloud barely registered it. His mind was going in ten different directions at once.

"You haven't mentioned me to Zack at all, right?"

Aerith scowled as she placed both hands on her hips. "Of course I haven't. Why would I ever do such a thing?"

_Because he's your boyfriend_, Cloud said silently to himself. But he knew that Aerith was telling the truth. If Zack had known he wouldn't have been able to hide it from Cloud. His SOLDIER friend wasn't capable of that kind of subterfuge. Unlike Cloud.

He ignored the pang of guilt that was becoming familiar to him now and shifted restlessly.

"Zack and I…" Cloud stopped and then he noticed Aerith's smile. "You know, don't you? You know that I've met Zack. That we're friends."

She sighed once, staring down at her flowers pensively before she answered. "Yes. Zack has spoken of you more than a time or two."

"How long?"

"Since you took off your mask for me a month ago." Cloud's mouth hung open and she smiled again. "It was your hair. Zack mentioned that you look kind of like a chocobo. I doubt two people in the whole world have that particular hairstyle."

"You should've told me," Cloud said, but even now he was unable to be angry with her. There was something about her that calmed him, put a damper on his rage.

She had been wary of him upon their first meeting. It _was_ the slums, after all. And after a lifetime of living there Aerith had learned caution. He had needed her to trust him and when he'd finally revealed himself to her she had smiled.

He hadn't known why at the time. Now he did.

Cloud walked away, seating himself on a nearby pew and Aerith came to sit beside him.

"Cloud?"

He shook his head and sighed but a small smile tilted up his mouth. "It's okay, I'm not mad. If I can keep secrets, why can't you? You're a lot more devious than I thought, though," he said teasingly.

Her laughter sounded like bells. "Well, I _did _grow up in the slums."

"You read my mind." She giggled as he shook his head in wry amusement. "So now what?"

Aerith shrugged. "Nothing's really changed since I don't have any intention of telling Zack." She paused to look at him meaningfully. "You can tell him when you're ready."

Cloud swallowed, wanting to argue but knowing she was right. Someday, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even a month from now, he would have to tell Zack. Their friendship had become too important for him to do otherwise.

"One more secret," she said softly, her spring eyes glinting with barely concealed sadness. Cloud was compelled to reach out and squeeze her hand. He already knew what she was thinking.

"I guess I don't really understand," he confessed. "Why can't you just tell him that you're an Ancient? I'm pretty sure Zack wouldn't care, and it isn't as if it's a bad thing."

"Half-Ancient," Aerith corrected and Cloud rolled his eyes, causing her to smile. "And no, it's not a bad thing. It's just not safe right now. It's better for Zack not to know. "

Cloud lifted his brow at her. "Plausible deniability?" When she tilted her head in question he answered without her even having to ask. "If Shinra finds out he can say with complete honesty that he didn't know you were an Ancient."

Aerith shook her head but her smile was sad again. "Like you, one day I'll have to tell him. But not yet. Not now." Her gaze was far away, as if looking into a future that only she could see.

"Why did you ask me about AVALANCHE?"

She turned back to him and hesitated before speaking. "The group you're with…they want to save the Planet?"

Cloud furrowed his brow before he nodded. "Yes. That's a big part of our purpose. Why?"

She was silent for a long moment. "The Planet is in a lot of trouble. And something…is going to happen unless you do something about it."

"You mean unless AVALANCHE does something?"

She shook her head. "No. I meant you. Unless _you_ do something, the Planet will do something to rectify the situation. And it'll be bad, Cloud. Really, really bad." Her final words were little more than a whisper.

Cloud stared at her in confusion. "I don't understand. Why does it have to be me? How can I stop it?" Cloud couldn't help but look at her a little skeptically. But really, the whole idea was unbelievable.

Aerith shook her head. "Surely you've noticed that things aren't right the way they are now."

Cloud had heard stories and had seen enough to know that she was right. Before his hometown had burned down, peddlers from other villages had brought word of monsters in places they had never before been seen. A stream near the town had become so polluted that it had been acidic, deadly enough to kill little Alrek, the school teacher's youngest son. Nibelheim had been forced to drain it. When they had done so, they'd discovered that all the fish were dead. In addition, some of the livestock had become diseased and mutated—chickens with two heads, cows that constantly produced stillborn calves, milk that came out of the udder already spoiled.

"But why me?" he asked again. "I'm no one. I'm nothing special. If the world needs saving, why not Zack or…I don't know. It doesn't make any sense." He didn't even try to hide from her how frustrated he felt.

"I'm sorry, Cloud, I know this is hard to hear. You're the key somehow and the only thing I really know is that it's all connected to what happened to you." When he scowled at her in question she sighed. "Nibelheim. It has something to do with what happened there. You have to find out the truth."

"What do you know about Nibelheim," he demanded. If she could tell him what had happened then…

Aerith shook her head. "I really don't know anything more than that." Her forehead wrinkled and her mouth turned down in sympathy. "I wish I could help you find what you're looking for."

Cloud felt his stomach lurch as he contemplated her words. He hadn't told Aerith anything about his past. The fact that she knew about it scared him enough but now it had become somehow imperative that he discover the truth. On top of that, he was in even more of a time crunch.

Cloud grit his teeth, clenching his jaw so tightly that it hurt. More questions and no answers. Frustration and helplessness built inside of his until all he wanted to do was scream.

Aerith placed her palm on Cloud's cheek, and he felt his fury disappear as suddenly as it had come. Even so, he could feel the rage waiting in the shadows, biding its time until it could fill him once more. "It will be alright, Cloud. I know you'll figure it out somehow. I wasn't sure how to tell you before but now—if you you're really not going to be around much—I just had to. I know what it's like not to have any time."

Cloud's smile was wry. "You have more secrets than Cid has dirty jokes. I assume your knowledge has something to do with you being an Ancient?"

Aerith nodded her head. "Sometimes I can talk to the lifestream, but it's not a static thing. It's more like whispers and I can only catch every other word. I would tell you more if I could but I believe that sometimes things happen the way they do for a reason."

Cloud wasn't so sure that he agreed. No one could convince him that the destruction of his home had somehow been destined to happen. It made him angry to think it could be justified by some cosmic bullshit.

"How long do I have?" he asked, scared in that moment to hear the answer.

"Not long," she answered softly and he nodded, somehow not surprised. He was discouraged by the vagueness of her answers but he knew that it wasn't her fault, that she would help him more if she could.

AVALANCHE's goal was to take down Shinra in order to save the Planet but _his_ objective had always been different. Truthfully, he'd never really cared about the Planet and had viewed that part of his job as a means to an end. As long as Sephiroth worked for Shinra, however, AVALANCHE's purpose and his own had coincided nicely. Now it seemed that things were no longer that simple.

But he trusted Aerith. More than that, he believed she was telling the truth.

Cloud Strife, World Savior. It would've been funny if it weren't so tragic.

* * *

Two weeks later, Cloud gasped as his arms began to quiver under Zack's heavy blows. The humiliating thing about it was that Zack had chosen to use a training sword rather than the buster sword he always carried. Yet Cloud could barely lift his arms to defend himself. He had been out of training too long. Although he had become the Shinra Thief and as such had made constant use of Vincent's training, there had been little need to use sword fighting in that particular occupation.

Kukashi, master of the sword, his former sensei, would be ashamed of him. He could just see the disappointed tilt of his narrow eyes, could feel his invisible presence standing there watching his pupil get pummeled into the ground. It didn't matter that Zack was a 1st Class SOLDIER. There was no excuse, even though he would like to claim that he was doing it on purpose.

He grimaced as their swords made contact again, could feel salty drops of sweat trickle down his face until they found his eyes, causing them to sting sharply.

"Keep your sword up, Cloud. Never let down your guard." Zack hadn't yet broken a sweat, his breathing was even, his face only slightly flushed.

For a moment Cloud was unnerved by how closely Zack's words echoed Vincent's but he was jolted heavily back into the present as Zack's sword once more made contact with his. He studied Zack's stance, saw the easy way he held the sword, the almost casual grace with which he moved.

Yes, Zack was very talented. A prodigy, undoubtedly. Even with all of Cloud's training he was no match for Zack, who practiced religiously every day, and more than that, had seen combat. His friend had lived and worked in situations where his life depended upon his skill with a blade. It made a definite difference.

On the other hand, Zack was lazy and cocky and much too sure that a cadet-in-training could never beat him. Cloud saw the way he continuously dropped his right shoulder before he struck, a revealed weakness that on the battlefield could get him killed. Cloud was fairly certain though that Zack would never do that out on the field. He underestimated him.

When Zack struck out again, Cloud dodged to the side, pivoted lightly on his right foot and simultaneously brought up his own sword, swiping it in a quick easy gesture at Zack's left side and hitting his rib with a hard jab before coming back into his guard position.

Zack grunted and brought himself back to his ready stance. His eyes were wide. "Shiva, Cloud, where'd you learn that?"

Cloud could feel himself blushing, realizing that he'd made a massive error in judgment. Once again, pride had reared its monstrous head. He had been envisioning Kukashi and Vincent, and of course, Sephiroth—always Sephiroth—standing there watching Zack make mincemeat out of him. And then of course Zack had left an opening and he'd taken it because…well, because it was _there_ and he hated to lose. _Damn._

"Cloud? Where did you learn the _Braver_? I mean, some of the 2nds can do that and all of the 1sts but I've never seen a cadet pull off something like that. At least, not without tripping over their own feet in the process."

Cloud's ears were on fire with his blush and any moment he expected steam to issue from them in chagrined displeasure of his stupidity. "Is that what it's called? I didn't know. I've just been…I've been watching some of the 1st Class SOLDIERs training. Um, and I've been practicing. You know, they have those wooden short swords and sometimes Lieutenant Sayers lets the cadets practice with them during free time."

Cloud wasn't lying. It was true that the Lieutenant did allow the cadets to practice and Cloud had been making use of the opportunity. It wasn't true, however, that he'd been watching the 1sts practice. There was too much risk that Sephiroth would show up.

He still had a long way to go before he could take someone like Zack on for real. Intense though Cloud's training had been for the nine months he had spent with his Wutaian sword master, it still wasn't enough. As for being able to face Sephiroth—

He shivered a little as the sweat began to cool on his body and Zack tilted his head in contemplation of Cloud's answer.

"Alright then."

Zack still looked a little perplexed but it was clear that he had chosen to shelve the issue.

_For now._

The words rang ominously in Cloud's mind. He'd been feeling apprehensive since he'd begun his training as a cadet two weeks ago, although as Zack had predicted Cloud had passed the entrance exam with flying colors. Still, this was his first time sword training one-on-one with Zack and already he was giving away more than he should. He didn't want to appear incompetent but it was _stupid, stupid, stupid,_ for him to pull off a maneuver that only very seasoned swordsmen could do. It had taken almost a year for Cloud to manage it, and as Zack had said, not trip over his own feet.

He had used every excuse he could think of to get out of training with Zack but none of them had made a dent in his hardheaded determination to make Cloud into a SOLDIER. He ignored all of Cloud's contentions, showing up at odd times during cadet training, pulling him aside to teach him the finer points of materia fusion and which accessories would enhance his speed or magic.

He wasn't the only cadet with a SOLDIER mentor. He had originally tried to use that as another of his arguments against Zack training him but his friend had scoffed and flippantly pointed out five other cadets who were currently being sponsored by SOLDIERs. It wasn't officially sanctioned by Shinra, as each cadet was supposed to have equal opportunity to enter into the hallowed ranks of SOLDIER, but still it happened. It was a sad fact that most of those who were chosen for mentorship made it in, and those who weren't chosen…well, it was hit or miss.

It made for a lot of resentment and unconcealed envy, however. More so in Cloud's case. No other cadet had the Lieutenant General, second only to the Director of SOLDIER, as a private tutor. But that argument hadn't worked either. Moreover, just the fact that Zack was looking out for him kept the would-be bullies at bay. None of the cadets were willing to piss off the Lieutenant General and risk being kicked out of the program.

"Okay, Cloud. That's it for today."

He collapsed dramatically onto the training mat, winning a grin and a short laugh from Zack. He allowed himself a small smile even though his portrayed exhaustion was deliberate. After all, Zack would expect it. A large part of him hated to put on that kind of show but watching his friend's amusement made it worth it. The worst part of training with Zack was the pretense; pretending bewilderment where there was knowledge, feigning confusion when his friend pointed out something he already knew. He never had a problem lying to anyone else. Only Zack.

Zack held out a hand to help him up and Cloud intentionally gave a loud groan as he was pulled to his feet, winning another chuckle from his friend and Cloud couldn't help but laugh himself.

Sudden loud clapping from the direction of the door broke the moment and Cloud turned to see an unfamiliar man, clad in the uniform of a SOLDIER 2nd approaching them.

"Nice job, cadet. Very nice. That last move you made was impressive."

Zack's eyes lit up. "Kunsel, my man. When'd you get back?"

The newly named Kunsel patted Zack on the shoulder but the Lieutenant General would accept nothing less than a full hug. Kunsel accepted this in the resigned manner of one who was used to Zack's overly friendly mannerisms.

Zack turned to Cloud then, his hand still on Kunsel's shoulder. "Hey, Cloud. This is Captain Kunsel. He's our right hand man, the eyes and ears of SOLDIER."

Kunsel smiled and stared down at Cloud intently. Too intently to Cloud's mind. He couldn't help tensing as the other's perusal of him continued.

"So you're the little cadet that Zack's been raving about," Kunsel said genially.

"I guess I am." Cloud allowed a shy smile to fix itself on his face. It felt unnatural but for better or worse it was his best weapon. No small amount of people had underestimated him because of it.

"Hmm. Pretty impressive showing. If you guys had been out in the field, Zack here would've been dead. You hit him right between the ribs, right? Thrust upward and you would've had his heart."

Cloud already knew that but he placed a deliberate frown on his face. "Uh, yeah. Well, I saw one of the 1sts practicing it a week ago and I've been working on it ever since. I usually fall over when I try it. I guess I just got lucky."

"Yes." Kunsel had once more begun an intent examination of Cloud and he had to deliberately relax to keep from tensing. He bowed his head in a bashful manner but inwardly he was cursing himself to Hel. Kunsel was so perceptive he could've been a Turk.

"Yup, my little Spike has some good moves. His defense is also pretty good. It won't be too long until he's beating me into the training room floor." Zack looked simultaneously proud and perplexed, as if he was still considering how Cloud had pulled off that last maneuver.

He shook his head. "I can't ever see that happening."

It was true because Cloud had no intention of letting Zack ever get a whiff of his actual skill. One of the best things he had going for him in Shinra was the element of surprise. When he finally got into SOLDIER it was going to be by the skin of his teeth. It was the safest thing for him because the last thing he needed was any more attention.

Zack wrapped an arm around Cloud's neck and pulled him into a headlock. "Yeah, my little chocobo, you still got a way to go."

Cloud struggled out of it until Zack finally let him go and he smiled up at him as soon as he was free. "We'll see."

"We certainly will," Kunsel interjected softly. He was smiling but it didn't reach his eyes and Cloud forced himself to meet his gaze, to smile back at him with all of the guile he could muster. "Well, I gotta get going. I haven't been to see the boss-man yet and he'll be expecting an update."

"You're going to see Seph?" Zack asked and Cloud bent over to pick up his sword, feigning disinterest as Kunsel replied.

"Yeah, I had to go out to Rocket Town for an intelligence op."

"Rocket Town? Really? I haven't been there since…" Zack was silent as if contemplating a memory but then he shook his head and smiled. "Tell Seph we're going out to dinner tonight. And tell him I won't accept any excuses. His paperwork will still be there in the morning."

Kunsel snorted. "_You_ tell him that. You, he'll just skewer with a look. Me, he'll roast on a spit and set out for supper."

"Nah, Seph likes tender meat. You're too tough and gamey for him."

"Maybe your little cadet, then." Kunsel glanced down at Cloud who had been pretending to fiddle with his sword. He could feel the other man's stare but this time he deliberately ignored it.

Zack smiled and shook his head at Kunsel's quip but his amused expression looked forced. He glanced over at Cloud who was now staring down at the training room floor and for the first time the meaning behind Kunsel's words hit Cloud. He felt the sudden rush of blood to his face and swallowed hard as his stomach fluttered. Kunsel had just been kidding, right?

"I'd better get this guy back to the barracks. Lieutenant Sayers will have my balls if all of his chicks aren't in the nest by their bedtime," Zack finally said, that same forced smile still fixed to his face.

Kunsel laughed and headed to the door. "Good luck," he said, and with one last glance at Cloud he left, the door sliding shut behind him.

There was silence for a moment afterward and Cloud couldn't identify why he felt awkward suddenly.

"Zack?"

The Lt. General turned to stare at Cloud before he shook himself and gestured to the door with a sigh. "I better get you back or the Lieutenant really will have my head."

"Could've sworn you said he was going to have a more delicate portion of your anatomy," Cloud said wryly, trying to interject some humor into the creeping tension.

Zack chuckled and reached out to shake Cloud by the neck. "Yeah, those too."

* * *

Sephiroth was tired. The amount of sleep he'd received in the last three days could be counted in minutes rather than hours. He rubbed at his eyes and leaned back in his chair, trying to keep his mind blank.

Nibelheim.

Why was the memory of that nightmarish day coming back to haunt him now? It had happened more than two years ago, after all. By now he should have been capable of burying it in the black pit that was his psyche, along with all the rest of the terrible memories that served no purpose to dwell upon. Regardless, that day had been playing through his mind for the last two weeks—both waking and sleeping—like a broken record stuck on a particular song that he detested.

He sighed and opened his eyes, somehow unsurprised to find Kunsel watching him from the door. The SOLDIER 2nd was frowning at him but came to attention the moment he realized that Sephiroth had noted his presence.

"Sir," Kunsel said.

Amazing how one word could be laced with such concern. Sephiroth suddenly felt disgusted with himself and resolved to get some much needed sleep when he returned home, even if he had to knock himself out in order to get it.

He straightened in his chair and gestured to the one across from him.

"Sit."

Kunsel approached the desk with all of the wariness of a mouse approaching a cranky, hungry cat.

"Look that bad, do I?"

Kunsel took a seat and leaned back, giving Sephiroth a quick inspection before responding. "The question's rhetorical, right? Because you really don't want me to answer that if it isn't. Has Zack seen you?"

"Of course, so don't start. I've had an earful from him already."

"Good."

Sephiroth lifted his brow. "You've been hanging around Zack too long. You're getting cheeky."

"Always was. I was just too terrified to say anything."

Sephiroth shook his head and sighed. "Enough. Tell me what you found."

"You know that I went to Rocket Town with the intention of killing two birds with one stone? I referenced the names on the suspect list against former residents in and around the last five years. The thief has an accent, you said, similar to that of those who live in that area. Unfortunately that lead turned up zilch."

"I understand. It was a long shot, anyway. You said two birds?"

Kunsel smiled. "Yes. I found something else. You remember that rocket? The one that was supposed to take off a year and a half ago but turned out to be a real bust?"

"Yes, I remember. It was a public relations nightmare when it happened. Shinra had been hoping to garnish some positive media attention for the Company."

"Yeah, ended up looking like a bunch of buffoons, instead. Well, you said that the thief the night you met him was rescued by an airship, correct?"

Sephiroth nodded and sat forward in his chair. "Yes."

"Well, the way you described the ship, the engines, the basic design…You said the thief's rescue transport resembled President Shinra's flagship. Well, I did a little research and discovered that Shinra's airship was originally designed by the aeronautical engineer that was responsible for the rocket—the same one that was supposed to be launched in Rocket Town. The airship was confiscated after the rocket failed to launch, kept as a penalty for the engineer's failure to produce results."

"You're saying that the engineer may have designed the thief's ship as well?"

"More than that. The engineer was notoriously adamant that no one flew his airship but him. Put up a huge stink when Shinra took his ship. I very much doubt that he'd just let the Shinra Thief and his AVALANCHE cronies come in and use another of his designs without him flying it himself."

Sephiroth's eyes glowed green with satisfaction. The news had wiped away the last vestiges of sleep and for the first time in a while he felt wide awake.

"The engineer works with AVALANCHE," Sephiroth mused aloud.

"It makes sense. The engineer was _pissed_ when Shinra took his ship. More than that, they pulled all of his funding and scrapped the space program altogether."

"What is this pilot's name?"

"Cid Highwind. The ship was named after him."

"Where is he now?"

Kunsel shook his head. "That's the question, isn't it? There hasn't been any sign of him since."

"Hmmm. Another question would be where he'd received the funding to make another ship. The Shinra Thief has managed to steal a considerable amount of gil but not enough to pay for that kind of enterprise."

Kunsel's eyes widened. "Friends in high places. You think maybe someone—maybe even someone in Shinra—helped AVALANCHE and this Cid Highwind to make another ship?"

Sephiroth shook his head. "We don't have enough evidence yet to support that kind of hypothesis, but that's why I need you. We have more questions than answers. We need to start putting these loose puzzle pieces together. Find out where that pilot is; see if you can trace his whereabouts. Investigate where he could've gone to get the materials for the ship. The parts needed to make that kind of vessel should be traceable."

"Yes, sir." Kunsel looked excited. His hand was tapping restlessly on his thigh and he was chewing his lip in thought. He hesitated, as if he wanted to mention something else, but then just shook his head. "By the way, Zack said something about getting dinner when I ran into him earlier. He said he wouldn't take any excuses."

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes but Kunsel held up his hands in a don't-blame-me gesture. "Hey, don't kill the messenger."

The General sighed, rising and grabbing his coat from where it was draped across the back of his chair. "Fine."

Kunsel muttered something beneath his breath, the words _Zack_ and _idiot_ the only words Sephiroth could make out. He couldn't help but smile. Yes, dinner suddenly sounded like a fine idea.

* * *

Author's Note: Just in case anyone was wondering, I am not a Tifa hater. Despite the fact that she may have been less than wonderful as a fifteen year old girl, she still grew into a pretty great person. I have never understood the lack of empathy for her character that some people display. I wish more people could remember some of the thoughtless things they did when they were young. I know that I, for one, was less than a saint. Puberty is a hard time for everyone and a little understanding is not a bad thing.


End file.
